Erebor, 3022: Kingfathers, A Courtship Year Story 6
by summerald
Summary: Post-LOTR AU! Prince Kili heads for the Blue Mountains to become their King, but first he must get past the pain and suffering of another Durin's Day. He struggles to balance duty to his father's people with his need to protect his beloved Nÿr and their unborn child, and on top of that, the ravens are unsettled: there's an unknown Ravenspeaker in the wilds trying to reach him.
1. Chapter 1

****Welcome to story number six in my post-LOTR AU! **These tales follow the course of a single year from one Durin's Day to the next. In a nutshell, King Fili rules in Erebor, his young son Fjalar is prince-in-training, and Prince Kili has recently wed his intended, the Lady Nÿr.

While this work can stand alone, reading the prequels will probably help at this point! All feedback welcome, even if you're coming late to the story. A quick review or a PM will do!** Mahal's blessing...and enjoy! -Summer****

* * *

**Chapter One**

"Levender, son of Tormund. At your service." The envoy, dressed in formal robes, bowed deeply.

"Kili, Prince and Commander of Erebor, at yours and your family's," Kili replied, bowing in turn as was proper. The envoy was somewhere near a hundred, Kili figured; much younger than most of the Blue Mountains' representatives he'd met over the years.

The lad bowed again, this time hand on heart. "I am the Assistant Secretary to the Ruling Council, Blue Mountains Territory," he supplied. "Here on diplomatic duty."

Kili nodded. "You are here to see my brother," Kili held out a hand to show him from the Reception Room to the King's Chambers.

"No, My Lord," Levender didn't move. "I'm here to see you. It is our hope to become a Kingdom once again."

Kili dropped his hand. Oh.

This.

_Mahal….so soon?_ It made him suddenly on edge, like he wanted to roar his denial of the responsibility despite his promises to his brother. _It's not even Durin's Day yet…! Why now, already?_

But he held himself still and nodded. "I see. What is it I can do for you?"

Levender smiled nervously. "It's more…what can I do for _you_? I'm here to help you prepare for…" he suddenly paled.

"My impending journey to Khelethur," Kili finished for him, realizing he was glowering at the lad but not caring.

"Yes," Levender explained, standing straighter, as if steeling himself. "Help with arrangements, formalities, legal matters, anything I can…"

Kili found himself narrowing his eyes, considering the lad. "Axe or sword?"

A lesser dwarf would have quailed at this question from a Son of Durin and Commander of Erebor, but Levender looked him in the eye.

"Pen."

Kili raised an eyebrow.

They considered each other for a long moment.

Then Kili cracked a smile, liking the lad's candor. This was no stuffy oldtimer. He patted the lad's arm. "Good answer, Levender. You remind me of my cousin Balin…and I apologize for my ill manners."

"Lev," the lad said, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Pardon?"

"Call me Lev," he shrugged. "Shorter. Cuts to the chase. And either one, actually. Sword or axe…I'm handy enough with either to get the job done if you don't expect true art."

"Duly noted." Kili found himself grinning in spite of himself. Mahal, young Lev was just cheeky enough to be interesting.

"My father was actually a third cousin to yours," Lev added. "Cousin's-son to Gunnvald Kingfather."

Kili blinked. He rarely heard his father's name mentioned. "King what?"

"Kingfather. Your Lady Mother had it etched on his grave when your brother was crowned King of Erebor." Lev slowed, then looked contrite. "You didn't know?"

"I've not been back since then," Kili murmured. "No."

Mahal, and Lev was a _cousin_? Not a Durin cousin, mind, but his father's cousin. He suddenly realized he knew next to nothing about his real father. He recalled Thorin, the one who'd really raised him—and raised him by way of warrior training started young.

"I don't recall him at all, to be honest," Kili said.

Lev smiled gently and shrugged. "No one expects you would. My grand-da says you were just a wee bairn when he died in battle." Lev looked somber, then held up a finger and fished in his pocket. "The family sends this." He handed over what looked like a notebook.

Kili accepted it, then opened it to find it wasn't a book but a closable frame that held two portraits. One was his mother, sister to Thorin Oakenshield. One look at her and it was clear from which side of the family Kili had gotten his dark hair and brown eyes.

But the other was a portrait he'd never seen.

His first reaction was that it was Fili.

But it wasn't. "Is this our father?" he asked.

Lev nodded.

Kili could barely take in the details. Fili's nose and eyes…

"My brother named his second child after him," Kili said, staring at the face that was so like Fili's that it was a bit of a shock. "Gunnar. We call him Gunz…"

Lev nodded. "Aye. They called your Da that…and be happy your mother didn't saddle you with a name like Kilivald."

Kili couldn't help but laugh at that one. "Mahal, yes!" He closed the frame and held it between his hands a moment, almost reverently. He felt suddenly humbled by this gift and he met Lev's merry eyes more honestly this time.

"My lady wife is on duty in the delivery ward until midnight," he said. "I was headed for dinner with the miner lads. Care to join me?"

Lev cocked his head. "Miners are the bread and butter of the Blue Mountains. I'd be right at home."

* * *

The next day Kili made a beeline for his brother's royal study.

"Did you know?"

Fili looked up from his desk with a half-annoyed expression. "Know what? Be less random, Kili."

"Envoy from the Blue Mountains. Here. Last night."

Fili frowned and poked his pen into the inkwell. "I didn't know about last night, but it's not hard to put two and two together here. They've been waiting for months for you to say yes…and you finally did."

"Less than a month ago."

"Strike while the iron is hot. Better take that one to heart. Kings need that kind of _act now_ savvy. What did you think of him?"

Kili shrugged. "Likable enough…but that's not the point."

They looked at each other. Fili wanted him to be free…but Kili still felt like he was being sent away. _Why do I suddenly feel like the little brother getting left out again?_

Fili stood and came to stand in front of him. "I need you to do this," he said softly. "For me, Kili. Do it for me."

Kili wanted to have one last fit of temper, one last moment of defiant refusal.

But one look at his brother and he couldn't.

Fili reached out and pulled him close, hugging tight. "In truth, I can't imagine not having you here," he said. "And it's going to make me miserable. But it will help, knowing you're there and making a new place for us. A few years apart, and then we'll be together again. Do you understand?"

No," Kili said petulantly. "And yes." He let the tension out of his shoulders. "It's just…"

"One week from Durin's Day," Fili finished for him. Then his voice got softer. "You're just worried ahead of time. I am too, Kee."

Kili wanted to shake his head and deny that worry over his curse and whether it was still with him or not was any kind of issue.

But it was. Fili knew him too well.

"What if it's not over? How can I go to them, knowing I carry this evil thing…?" Kili shook his head.

"It's an evil thing that makes you sick once a year. It doesn't make YOU evil."

Kili stared at him. "It makes me open to it…the dragon…" He shook his head.

"Dragon's gone."

"That stupid Tyrfing Sword…"

"Sword's gone."

Kili sighed, exasperated.

Fili put his hands on his brother's arms. "You have Nÿr, who is not about to let anything happen to you."

Kili let his breath out. "She's pregnant." Another cause for worry.

"With the Blue Mountains heir and future King." Fili smiled slowly, as if immensely proud of himself. "Look, you're not going alone. You know I'll release Skirf into your service. Start thinking about who else you want to take. The way to settle your nerves," Fili said firmly. "Is to start planning how to make it work."

He stepped back then.

"Start as you mean to go on, Kili. Go talk to the chamberlains about a state dinner to welcome this," he looked blankly at Kili, realizing he hadn't heard the envoy's name.

"Levender."

"Levender," Fili repeated. "And then set up a meeting with him—we can talk to him together about how to proceed. I can do that much with you—I promise."

Kili nodded.

Fili walked to a bookcase, pulled off a large volume, and brought it back. "If you have trouble sleeping, I recommend this one," he put the tome in Kili's hands.

Kili looked at the tooled leather cover. "A Treatise on the Judicial Proceedings of the Blue Mountains Territory with a Historical Perspective on the Litigation concerning Mining Rights and Familial Precedence," Kili read aloud. He looked up at his brother in despair.

"Boring as hell," Fili stated. Then he looked Kili in the eye. "But that's no excuse for not knowing it."

Kili was searching for a good comeback line when Fili's Clerk of Office stepped in.

"My Lord," the Clerk bowed his head quickly. "We have a Man at the gate requesting an audience."

"From Dale?" Fili asked. Thursdays were set aside for Erebor-Dale relations. It was not Thursday.

"No, my Lord. He identifies himself as one of the Dunedain…sent by King Elessar."

The brothers shared a look of surprise. This was unexpected.

"Show him to the Reception Room," Fili replied, hand on heart. "We'll be right there."

* * *

**Please don't forget to drop me a note and let me know what you think! ** All feedback appreciated. Happy reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Kili, Prince of Erebor, stood dressed in his prince's blues before his second oldest nephew and made a show of sternly looking him over.

Gunz wore the uniform of a Royal Page for the first time, a small collar sigil the only indication that he was the King's son. Fjalar had been doing page service on and off for the past three years, relieved of that duty when he moved to the trainee dorm.

For Gunz, on the other hand, it was time to learn the ropes.

Kili checked young Gunnar's dress, adjusted the cuff on his left sleeve, and then checked the cleanliness of his hands. At the same time, he tried not to smile. He well remembered having withstood the same scrutiny from his uncle Thorin. He'd tried so hard to stand as tall as Fili. It seemed to him that Fili had always passed muster while he, Kili, always had a demerit.

He wasn't going to put Gunz through that, and he spared his nephew a smile. "Good job, lad. The steward knows what he's doing, Gunz. Your job is to watch and assist, and keep your ears open…I'll be asking questions afterward and you can tell me your impressions of the man." Part of a prince's training as a page had to do with learning to watch and listen, after all.

Gunz nodded, standing straight and very much on his manners. Gunz was indeed trying to stand as tall as Fjalar.

Kili considered Gunz. Fjalar had always performed his duties well. That lad was a natural.

Gunz, on the other hand, was a completely different youngster and Kili was aware that he shared something in common with Gunz, beyond being the number two brother.

They both worried about Fili, not as the King, but as a brother and a father.

Wherever Gunz ended up, Kili wagered it would be with his Da rather than his brother.

He softened his voice when he spoke again. "You may hear us talking about things having to do with the future, Gunz." Kili said quietly. "I have a promise to keep, and it's what your Da wants me to do. Whatever you hear, remember that a page's job is to stay quiet and keep his _maldarûn_ face. If you have questions, you can ask me after."

Solemn young Gunz looked up at him, eyes wide. After a moment, the lad nodded.

"Such a serious lad," Kili smiled and made a silly face.

Gunz's face brightened and he suppressed a laugh.

"Come on, then," Kili said, hand on the lad's shoulder. "Mind your manners." He let Gunz precede him into the King's Reception Room, watching him walk bravely to the Steward's station and make a perfect bow.

Kili walked the other way, crossing the room to where Fili was getting one last wardrobe adjustment from the chamberlain. Their eyes met and Kili winked at him.

Fili looked half proud, half resigned at the idea of his second son starting at page duties.

"He'll be fine," Kili murmured. "He's a steadier lad than I was at that age," he smiled.

"Wouldn't take much," Fili teased. "Don't remind me. You were always a handful."

Kili shrugged and Fili grinned. After a moment he signaled the chamberlain that he was ready.

They took their places, the door was opened, and Kili noted that the man of the Dunedain looked duly overwhelmed as he stepped inside. Visitors were always surprised to see the opulent wood and leather of Erebor's lodge-style reception room, especially after the imposing stone architecture of the Gate and Main Hall.

"I am Halden, Son of Halbarad, a Captain of the Dunedain," the Man introduced himself, bowing northern style.

"Kili, Prince of Erebor, at your service," Kili bowed. Then, because protocol stated that Kings did not bow to Captains of other kingdoms, Kili introduced his brother. "May I present my brother Fili, King of Under the Mountain."

Fili smiled, nodding once in a formal yet kindly greeting.

"My Lord King," Halden bowed deeply this time in the style of Gondor. "My Lord Elessar sends his greetings and his respects. He bids me congratulate you on your recent victory in battle."

Both brothers nodded, hands on hearts.

"Please convey our thanks to your Lord Aragorn," Fili said, using the less formal title as a way to dispense of the formalities. "And welcome to Erebor," he held a hand out, inviting Halden to walk with them. "Tell me what brings you here," Fili finished.

"Aragorn sends me to you on a personal matter," Halden said.

"Ah," Fili led the man to a table near the great stone hearth. "Then let's have a drink and you can tell me about it."

"Wine or ale?" Kili offered.

Halden's serious face lit up. "Erebor Ale is not to be missed," he said with a grin.

Kili offered a man-sized chair at a square table near the warm fire and Halden nodded his thanks and sat.

"We have a good amber ale at the moment," Fili offered.

Halden inclined his head. "It would be my honor."

This was the Steward's cue to bow and serve Ale, with Gunz assisting.

The King and Prince took up tall stools. This was a meeting table they used with Bard, designed to even the conversational action by putting everyone's heads on the same level, despite the height difference.

Ales were served, Gunz discreetly laid folded linens near each flagon, careful to be correct in his service, and Fili lifted his flagon first. "To Aragorn!"

"Heyah!" Halden and Kili agreed. Gunz and the steward stepped back, mindful of their roles.

True to dwarven custom, all three chugged the brew. Fili and Kili could dispose of a flagon-full with no problem, of course, and they cheered Halden for his ability to do the same.

"Good man!" Fili proclaimed, and the Steward quickly offered replacements while Gunz cleared the empties with a quiet grin.

Halden raised his fresh flagon and took just one mighty swig this time. "My compliments," he said, referring to the ale. "Outstanding."

Fili grinned. "Good to know that Erebor can keep its chin up another day," he laughed. "Now tell me your business, lad."

"Aragorn wishes you to know that a detachment of Dunedain ride west in early spring. We have been away from our kin for too long and it's time for us to return home."

Fili nodded, but said nothing. He glanced at Kili.

But Kili kept his expression steady. "You're saying there might be room in this detachment for fellow travelers?"

"Exactly so," Halden smiled. "An open invitation, should you choose it. The roads are far safer than they have been in years, but there are still troublemakers in the wilds. We hear tell of war parties…" Halden stopped himself, then tilted his head in reconsideration. "Well, the reports say war parties. To warriors like yourselves who have seen real battle against the might of Mordor…" He shook his head, then drank. "These are petty thugs and highway robbers. Still, they cause mischief…take lives if they catch travelers unawares."

"Orcs?" Fili asked.

Halden nodded. "Hill goblins, half-orcs, former men of Isengard...a few roving bands of warg riders. They've been harassing the northern border of the Shire, attacking Dunedain settlements when they can."

"I've read Sam's reports from Hobbiton," Kili said. "They found Isengard orcs in the heart of the Shire."

Halden nodded. "Yes. Hobbits hunt them. Last word we had from our folks at home was of hill goblins getting into the old mineworks along the northern shore of the Lune."

Kili's eyes narrowed. "There are Blue Mountains settlements in that area," he said.

Halden nodded. "Aye. Small settlements. Miners," he said with respect. "And we all know that dwarves intent on their craftwork sometimes miss danger until it is upon them."

Kili sighed. "True enough with mine folk," he said, shaking his head. "They get caught up in tracing a vein, consumed in their work." Kili shared a look with his brother.

"Am I correct," Halden asked quietly. "In understanding that you head west to take up the kingship?"

"Aye," Kili confirmed. He was aware that Gunz had raised his head in surprise, but the lad remained still and didn't speak.

Halden nodded. "This news is most welcome to us in the north. The Dunedain stand ready to assist you."

Kili bowed his head, hand on heart. "My thanks, Halden. I have not come to this decision lightly. I appreciate your support."

The talk changed then to lighter matters. Fresh flagons were served, Gunz silently collected the empties.

Halden spoke of seeing Gimli in Minas Tirith, of the work of the Erebor stonesmiths Fili had sent and their accomplishments. "The King is well pleased. There is much work to do to repair the damage of the siege."

Four rounds of ale later, Kili brought the topic back to Halden's invitation. "When do your people ride west?" Kili asked.

"On the full moon of the month we call Gwaeron," Halden said.

"Gwaeron. The wind month," Fili said.

Kili was frowning.

"Last full moon of winter," Fili translated.

"That's when you'll depart Minas Tirith?" Kili asked.

Halden shook his head. "We will leave from Edoras on that day."

Kili leaned back, considering that. It was possible to ride from Erebor south to Edoras in the third month. The roads would be icy around Erebor, but as they went south the ice would give way to simple cold rather than impossible freezing.

And it was not called the Wind Month for nothing.

"We'll make the Gap of Rohan at a good time with plentiful water," Halden went on. "And we have learned, over these past two years, that travelers going west meet with less trouble when they travel in mixed companies. We will be about one hundred Dunedain. It would be an honor to include Erebor dwarves."

"I would be honored to accept the invitation," Kili said. "Though in truth, I'm not yet sure how many of us will be making the journey. We are likely to have nothing faster than ponies."

Halden smiled. "We will not be traveling so fast that ponies can't keep up," he assured him. "We will have some veterans with us who require wagon travel."

Kili raised his eyebrows. He knew what that meant. Survivors who could no longer walk or ride.

"We would be honored to help you see them home," he offered.

"It would be good to convince some elves to come along," Halden nodded his thanks to Kili. "But we noted on our way up the Anduin that Lorien is all but abandoned." Halden drained his flagon. "The Lady's people have indeed departed Middle Earth."

Kili turned his flagon in his hand. "That said, there might be one or two Woodland Elves willing to travel westward."

Fili looked taken aback, then raised his eyebrows. "Tuilind and Yanu?"

"They've asked about elves in the Shire," Kili said. "I think they might go if we asked."

"Ah," Halden said. "Elves in the Shire would be Rivendell folk passing through. We will stop in Rivendell on the way west. Perhaps if your friends came along, they could inquire."

Kili suddenly looked wistful. "Rivendell. I've not seen that valley since before we routed the Dragon," he and Fili shared a glance. "Is it abandoned too, since Elrond departed?" Somehow, the thought of that place without elves in it seemed very sad.

Halden smiled. "I have not seen it since the war, my Lord Prince. But Elrond's sons and daughter remain still in Middle Earth. Elladan, at least, still counts it as his home and I hear that it remains a place of great wonder."

In the shadows behind the tall man, Kili caught sight of the Steward nudging Gunz to a new task.

The look on the lad's face showed he'd been caught standing in shock and wide-eyed wonder at the talk of Rivendell and elves.

Ah, Kili smiled as he finished his fourth flagon. He knew that feeling.

* * *

Nÿr, Princess of Erebor and Master Physician, was tucking away the one infant currently residing in the mother's ward. It had been a quiet evening with only one patient, a lass who'd delivered this strong young lad yesterday—a very chubby little fellow welcomed by his blacksmith parents, hair as bright red as the forge they both worked and a penchant for sleep that was a blessing for his exhausted mother. He'd only required a little comforting and one diaper change, a task she hadn't even passed to the trainees. She'd always had a soft spot for newborns, and she looked forward now to her own, though she secretly hoped her young Kirin wouldn't be quite the hefty armload this lad was. This fellow had to weigh a full three stones, freshly hatched.

"Good thing your mother is a big, strong hammer-maid," she'd told him, kissing his fiery brow. "You certainly made her work hard enough."

She would know about her own lad in about a year, actually. She was just now passing the first third of her pregnancy and while no one would know it by looking at her (dwarf mothers carried long and didn't show much until the very last months), she was starting to feel the effects of nurturing the child within.

Including a deepening of her close bond with her Lord husband. Nothing felt better than to walk hand in hand with him, sit together by the fire, wrap him in her arms…

Or welcome him to her bed. That was definitely an education. She'd had no idea the rush of heightened pleasures that came with pregnancy.

And her Lord Husband was certainly not complaining about any of it.

With Kili in her mind, she ended her shift in the infirmary and crossed the open air bridge across the Hub to the Halls of Learning. She smiled when she spotted him—her prince of a husband in his dress blues, making his way up the grand stairs and creating a stir as he went. The people of Erebor loved seeing their King and their Prince out and about.

Luckily, no one was really impeding his progress. She took the same stairs down, meeting him halfway.

"There you are!" He smiled wide and warm and caught her up in a gentle spin, lips meeting hers for a quick kiss.

Around them, people chuckled and a few of them clapped their approval.

She had to catch her breath. Kili was a singularly handsome dwarf. Dressed and polished in his princely gear, he was devastating. Her hands came up to frame his face and his dark brown eyes were so intense that she laughed.

"My goodness, all dressed up for a party!"

Kili blushed a bit. "Messenger from Aragorn."

"You'll have to tell me all about it," she leaned forward for another kiss. "In private."

He raised an eyebrow to show his interest, but clearly he wasn't surprised. He took her hand and aimed them for a side hall.

It was not as simple a getaway as either of them hoped. There was a guard captain who wanted to introduce his father. A young artisan with an invitation to a show. They were gracious enough to play the roles of Prince and Princess for their people, but all the while they regarded each other with quick, secret looks. Nÿr admired the way he stood tall and the strength it showed.

When he looked at her, his gaze was focused and his desire evident.

And then Bofur was there.

"Dinner, tomorrow night. Bombur's cooking." His slanted expression told them he would accept nothing short of a yes. "I've serious matters to discuss with you." He patted Kili's arm. "And the first of the Bourbon Cask Wheats." He winked, referring to a specialty Ale that Bombur had perfected over the years.

"Can't miss that," Kili told him.

Bofur had winked at Nÿr. "That young lassie Embur is joining us," he said. "Wants to be in on the chat."

Kili and Nÿr agreed to be there on time, and Bofur nodded his approval, set his hat, and sauntered off.

By the time they took the non-descript hallway just past the statue of Jormund the Apothecary and stood outside the odd old door with their secret key, both of them were beyond words.

Nÿr keyed the door open, they slipped inside, and Kili closed it tight behind them with his foot.

And then they were far too busy divesting each other of gear and clothing to notice anything more.

Kili took a half step toward the inner apartment and their bedroom, but Nÿr didn't let him budge past the fireplace.

"Do you want a fire, then?" he asked between fervent kisses. They had made it to the plush carpet and seemed bent on devouring each other.

"If you stop," she said, switching from his lips to his ear, loving the feel of his mouth on her neck. "I will scream."

He laughed, muffled against her throat. She managed to push the last of his princely shirt from his broad, muscled shoulders.

"Kili," she whispered, letting his name convey her love and need all at the same time.

He rolled over, pressing her shoulders to the plush rug, supporting himself on his strong hands. "No fire?"

She smiled, loving that he was big and powerfully built and all hers. "Just this one," she ran a hand up his chest and hooked the back of his knee with her foot.

That kept them well occupied for more than an hour.

Kili swallowed hard, afterwards. "Is it just me," he murmured. "Or was that really intense?"

Nÿr could hardly string two words together. Her body was flush with a lassitude of bliss unparalleled in her experience. She was limp, spent, floating on a lazy cloud…_Mahal._

She reached up one hand, weakly, to touch his jaw. "Yes…" she breathed, then bit her lip as if contemplating more.

He saw, raised an eyebrow, and then smiled at her, his eyes full of love and admiration. And maybe just a little male pride in his prowess.

She approved.

And then, with energy she would not have thought possible, he scooped her up from the floor and carried her the short distance to their bedroom.

This time he did take a moment to the light the fire in the little hearth and then slowly stretch himself out to spoon against her.

Lazily, he drew the covers up and she half turned to reach up and cup his jaw.

"You are so amazing," she smiled at him.

"Only because you provide the inspiration, love."

She turned to face him, drunk on the feel of bare skin on bare skin. "Shall I inspire you again?" she asked.

She didn't hear his answer, but she felt it in his touch.

Oh, yes.

* * *

Nÿr was decidedly lazy the next morning, and when she realized Kili still lay asleep, she was more than content to lay quietly with her head against his arm. Warm and happy. She knew enough about dwarven life to say a quick prayer of thanks to Mahal.

Their day would begin soon enough, and if Kili's duties as a prince kept him busy, she wondered what his duties as King would be.

On the other hand, she'd lived in the Blue Mountains for five years. They had a decidedly slower pace of life than Erebor. Erebor stood tall in the landscape…it could be seen for a hundred miles and it drew trouble like moths to a flame.

The Blue Mountains stronghold, Khelethur, was the opposite. It sat hidden in a deep granite valley full of oaks and pines…and the exact location of that valley within the great mountain range was a well-kept secret. Even if enemies could pinpoint Khelethur on a map, there was still the problem of getting close to it.

Underground, it was just as vast, but instead of a deep vertical inner hub with grand stairways and open air bridges, the Blue Mountains Great Hall was long and linear…

A massive cavern full of crystal that sparkled in blue-white lamplight.

Her dream brain thought about the few ceremonies she'd attended there—of honorees walking the long aisle between rows of dwarves, mounting the granite stairs and approaching the tall, glowing crystal throne.

_Kili would have to do that…there would be a procession. She could see him, strong Son of Durin walking with confidence, ready to accept their mithril crown…and she walked beside him in rhythm to their glorious Song of Eternal Winter… _

She woke suddenly then, feeling him kick in his sleep.

She sat up, looking at him in confusion. They were walking…? No. He was having a nightmare.

She saw his face, flushed. Sweat on his brow…a grimace, the contraction of his right leg, the reaction to phantom pain.

_No…!_ Durin's Day was six days off. _Six days! The morgul fever only came on Durin's Day and this was not its time!_

"Kili!" Nÿr pulled the blanket from his clenched hands, hoping the morning air would spur him awake. She rose, finding a cloth and dunking it in the wash water and bringing it to his brow.

"Kili! Wake up!"

The cold cloth did the trick. He went still, his eyes opened wide, and she saw for a moment that fevered, feral look she remembered from the goblin caves—from the spider poison and the dragon's torment.

Tears were on her face. "Kili…wake up love." She tried not to cry. "It's just a bad dream…"

He blinked, holding his hands up, fingers spread.

_No chains, love._ Her heart nearly broke, seeing him check for shackles on his wrists.

He looked at her then, expression bleak. She wiped his brow, then set the cloth aside to kiss him on the forehead.

"Mahal…" he whispered, a shaky hand finding hers.

"Hush. It was just a dream." She felt his brow. "You're not hot, it's not the fever," she said, shaking her head.

His eyes closed a moment, he shifted a little towards her, then went still. A moment later he looked up in despair.

"Yet."

She closed her eyes and bent to touch foreheads. Yet.

* * *

****Thanks **for reading and following the new story! Apologies for the long post time...got slammed by the icky virus thing going around-so take care, all. **Extra thanks to Cassandrala and BlueRiverSteel** for not letting me off the hook story-wise.

**As always, drop me a note, review or PM** and let me know your thoughts. As you can tell, this story is already a bit more fluffy and family focused than the last. ;D_****  
**_

* * *

_Translation from the Dwarrow-Scholar's Neo-Kuzhdul Dictionary..._

_**Maldarûn**_**= game **(ie, _Maldarûn_ face = poker face)**  
**

**Song reference:** The Blue Mountains' Song of Eternal Winter is sourced from Norwegian musician Antii Martikainen's Land of Eternal Winter. In my mind, this is the coronation music that we will see later in the story. Find it on YouTube with this: /watch?v=-ZXlQlDsSuI (sorry, skip the ad.) To me, the Durin/Kili theme kicks in around 1:25. I also have a version downloaded from jamendo which is my preferred version, but jamendo will make you jump through some hoops to listen, but will let you download for free.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Kili, brother to Erebor's King, dozed in the early morning hours after a somewhat harrowing night. He was vaguely aware when his beloved slipped silently from their bed, gently squeezing his hand to assure him all was well…a silent gesture they had fallen into using to keep from alarming each other.

But he opened his eyes enough to see her slide her arm into a dressing robe, reassuring himself that she was fine and didn't need his help. They were used to each other coming and going on their own schedules, but he sighed when she left their room.

Durin's Day. It was nearly upon them. It had meant nightmares and morgul fever for Kili since that day, more than eighty years ago when he'd rashly taken on a rabble of orcs. They'd been trapped and Kili had seen how to free them all and jumped at the chance.

But every heroic act has a price, Kili had since learned. Did he regret his act? No.

But neither did he welcome the consequence.

Yet this year he was free from the dragon's spirit, no longer confined to Erebor, that was clear. He could even hear Fili's firm voice saying it: _Dragon's gone, Kili._

But had it taken the curse in his blood?

Everyone hoped so.

And the hardest part about Durin's Day this year, he realized, was that—they'd had _hope_.

He opened his eyes and stared at the dark ceiling. After last night that hope was gone. Time to face it. What had seemed like 50-50 odds were more like nil—there was no use denying it or pretending this time. The signs were saying it to him loud and clear: the curse was holding on, the fever was gearing itself up. Welcome to the show.

_Mahal._ Any other year and he might have just given up and thrown himself down an empty mine. He'd been driven that mad with it more than once over the years. Not always. But more times than he cared to admit.

He couldn't let that happen this year. In fact, not ever again. He cared too much about Nÿr and their child. His son would not grow up without his father.

He didn't realize he'd drowsed again until he heard Nÿr's quiet return and smelled the aroma of the dark, roasty nut-bark tea she brewed in the mornings.

She turned up the lamplight to brighten their room, and he stretched, opening his eyes, and rousing himself enough to sit up and accept the hot mug that she handed him. It would spur him awake, help him shake off a lingering itchiness in his brain.

She said nothing, but she didn't need to. The look on her downturned face told him she had come to the same conclusions as he had about last night's disturbance and what it meant.

"Thank you," he murmured to her, getting a second sip of the tea. He knew he looked a mess.

She didn't speak, but when she looked up, she was close to tears…something he almost never saw.

"Nÿr…sweetheart," he murmured, reaching one hand to stroke her hair and pull her close. The poor lass looked completely wrecked when this was really his problem. "Please don't let this get to you." He kissed the top of her head, wanting so much to reassure her. "I'll get through this. We'll be all right." He meant it. That dwarfy fatherhood protective instinct was bolstering his resolve. "A week from now and this will all be over." He would just get through it and come out on the other side…he had to.

Because he was not going to let his wonderful young sweetheart face the next year all by herself. Not a chance.

* * *

An hour later, Kili stood back-to-back with Nÿr, long blue cloaks keeping them warm as they stood on Ravenhill, arms out to receive Erebor's feathered allies. The ravens were busy flying reconnaissance around the mountain but reported little of interest. A dusting of snowfall on the higher reaches; travelers inbound from the Iron Hills, about a half day off.

The birds were unusually peckish with each other, though.

"Do you know that one?" Nÿr asked him, pointing to a ragged fellow who'd hunkered defensively against a tree. She was trying her hardest to put a brave face on their day.

Kili, still a bit blurry eyed, squinted at the bird. "No. Maybe one of the Dale birds…?" Mahal, if she could make the effort, so could he.

Around them, the Ravenhill flock was in an uproar and looked as though they might even gang up on the strange raven.

"Every time he approaches I think he might land," Nÿr said, "then he veers off. I wonder if he's injured…"

"Let's see if he'll come to me," Kili offered. Nÿr was rather new to the flock, as Ravenspeakers went.

Nÿr nodded. "I'll lead some of these others off." She eased herself away from him, heading for the lower parapet where a barrel of nuts and seeds would offer some distraction. Predictably, most of the flock followed her.

But one of the Erebor ravens refused.

It was Corax. For some reason he stayed at Kili's shoulder, screaming at the newcomer bird in an uncharacteristic fury. Kili couldn't quite tell through the racket, but he thought he heard the strange bird trying to speak.

"Rayyyyy...Rayyyyy. Prince."

Raven Prince?

"I am Raven Prince. Speak, my friend," Kili said, trying to get Corax to come to his arm and settle.

But Corax wasn't having it and took to the air, swooping at the unknown bird and sending him off.

In response, the rest of the group left the nuts Nÿr had so generously offered and joined the chase.

Kili sighed, then turned slowly and limping just a little, trudged down the slope to rejoin her, shaking his head. "I'll try again later. I think that bird is calling me…" His brows came together. "But he's not brave enough to get past Corax."

Nÿr snorted. "That one thinks he owns you," she said.

Kili turned to look in the direction Corax had flown. "Something I've been wondering about," he said, the gusty wind blowing his long raven-dark hair behind him.

"What's that?" Nÿr asked.

Kili turned back to her. "Would he follow us, do you think?"

"Follow…?" Nÿr frowned, then looked like she understood. "You mean to Ered Luin?"

Kili nodded. "Do you remember any ravens talking to you when you were there?" He helped her re-seal the nut barrel.

Nÿr shook her head. "I didn't really notice at the time," she said. "Hearing ravens wasn't something I thought was very special then, to be honest."

"But from what you remember, the Blue Mountains ravens don't demand attention like ours do. Don't try to talk."

"No. Not that I ever saw. Certainly there are no Ravenspeakers in Ered Luin." He saw Nÿr looking in the direction the flock had gone. "As pesty as they are, they _would_ be a huge help. The Blue Mountains cover more land than Erebor…it's much more rugged."

"That's what I was thinking," Kili said. Then he looked at her with concern. "Let's head inside. You're getting apple cheeks," he smiled gently, putting an arm around her and using his larger form to block the wind.

They were walking hand-in-hand by the time they made it back to Erebor's great Gate. A good number of people were coming and going on this fine cold morning, running errands and heading for duties. People smiled happily at the sight of them together, though they all knew to simply greet them in passing rather than slow them down.

Except for one.

"My Lord!"

Kili looked up to see young Levender hailing him from across the broad hall as they passed the Gate. The lad seemed to be signaling him to wait while he dodged outgoing travelers to meet them.

"You're certainly a much busier dwarf than the Blue Mountain's councilors!" Levender said with a quick nod, trying to catch his breath. "I can see that!"

"Thank Mahal!" Kili laughed as Lev joined them. The old councilors probably slept more than anything else. "I'm overdue to meet my brother in the stables," Kili said to him, gesturing toward an archway not far from where Lev had just been. "You're welcome to come along."

"Yes, all right. Thank you," Levender said, looking slightly uncomfortable. Kili chalked it up to Lev's unfamiliarity with Erebor that the lad looked about as if trying to get his bearings. Then his eye caught Nÿr and his expression went blank. "Oh, dear. My apologies," he stammered.

Kili took it in stride. "Levender, may I introduce Nÿr, my Lady Wife?"

Levender had stopped in his tracks, eyes wide.

"Your…?"

The lad seemed shocked to see that Kili had married. Kili and Nÿr stopped, looked at each other, then back at Lev. How could he not know?

Kili suppressed a smile and wondered briefly if the news truly had not made it to the Blue Mountains. No, he remembered. They'd sent a wedding gift—and an official acknowledgement by the Ruling Council…to which Lev was an assistant secretary.

"Lady Nÿr, Princess and Master Physician of Erebor," Kili introduced her formally, trying to give the lad a chance to recover. He left off the part about her also being a Ravenspeaker. He wasn't entirely sure the Blue Mountains folk knew about Ravenspeakers.

Nÿr inclined her head and made a brief curtsy.

Kili continued, "My Lady Nÿr, may I introduce Levender, son of Tormund, Assistant Secretary to the Ruling Council, Blue Mountains Territory. He's also cousin of mine, he tells me. On my father's side."

Nÿr raised an eyebrow. "Well met, Levender." She made a polite hand on heart bow. "Did you get the word about the state dinner tomorrow night?" she asked as they started walking toward the stables again.

"Yes," Levender, hand on heart, nodded. "I did. Thank you."

"We should be sure to seat you next to Lady An tomorrow evening," Nÿr said. "She's the family genealogy expert."

Levender froze in place again. "Lady An?" He finally stammered. "You mean _the Queen_?"

"Yes," Nÿr said, taking his elbow and getting him to keep moving. "She'll be eager for the details. After all, you are family to her children's grandfather."

"But…the _queen_…" he sputtered.

Kili frowned at the lad's hesitation, but then young Lev seemed to pull himself together. "I would be honored, my Lady."

"What exactly can I do for you, Lev?" Kili pressed the point as they continued their walk toward the big archway into the stables. Lev had gone out of his way to flag him down, so the lad must have something on his mind.

"Yes, my Lord. I wish to share plans for your journey. I have a route drawn up and if you would just approve it, I could…"

Kili almost laughed, then realized Lev was only doing what he thought was his job.

"Lev, lad…" he schooled his expression to something more appropriately serious. "I'm not an infirm old dwarf who needs things pre-planned to the nth degree. I prefer to make my own arrangements and," he leveled a serious look at the younger dwarf. "Keep them quiet." He shook his head. "Not written down, either."

Lev's eyebrows went up in surprise and he blinked. "I…well, I see. Of course…"

Together they rounded the corner and passed though the wide opening into the stable complex built for the Dale messengers. The smell turned decidedly equine and the stone floor of Erebor's hall turned to the loamy, soft footing of a horse arena.

"As it happens," Kili told him, "We may join a larger group of travelers heading west from Minas Tirith. I expect we'll depart toward the end of winter and meet up with them."

This time, Lev's faced flushed red.

_Why that reaction?_ Kili wondered, but he didn't have time to figure it out. He felt Nÿr grab his arm at the same time he heard a galloping horse.

He looked up to see a long-legged courier horse pounding past, headed for the open cavern at break-neck speed, followed by his brother's panicked shout.

_"__Iri!"_

* * *

Skirfir had been waiting calmly inside the large indoor arena that was part of Erebor's stable complex. He had a battle bow and a full quiver of arrows, and he was waiting for one Prince (Kili) and keeping an eye on another (Fjalar) who was busy making final adjustments on a new piece of tack designed for warhorses.

His job was to demonstrate his ability to shoot accurately from the new pillion saddle. He'd practiced all morning with Bard and Bard's new lady friend Léofa, a fair-haired Rider of Rohan who seemed to be on long term assignment with Dale.

After hitting twenty seven targets dead-on, Fjalar had pronounced them ready to demonstrate for his father.

Skirfir was glad to see his King when he arrived with his young daughter. Iri announced she was off to visit a litter of stable kittens while Fili greeted Bard with a firm hand. A small crowd of observers trailed along, made up of several members of the guard and a few stable hands.

Fjalar quickly commandeered everyone's attention, and Skirfir walked with him, leading the observers into the big arena.

"Bard and I worked this out with Skirfir," Fjalar said. "It's a new saddle design to make it easier for dwarf archers to ride pillion behind Men on warhorses."

Fili stepped up, instantly interested. He caught Skirf's eye, then looked back at the new saddle.

Fjalar went on. "These hooks under the archer's knees means he can grip the saddle without impeding the running horse. He can actually hit a specific target," he feigned an aim and shoot. "Pretty accurately."

Léofa nodded. "Even on a big Rohan stallion, like this one."

Bard patted his own long-legged Dale runner. "And with a taller horse like this filly, the extra rider sits more confidently and doesn't keep her from stretching out and putting on speed."

Fili was nodding. "That last battle, half the challenge was just staying on the horse. Shooting was more luck than skill." He shook his head and looked at Skirf. "I take it you're demonstrating?"

Skirfir nodded once, smiling. They had quite a nice little demonstration planned, actually.

Fjalar nodded at Bard and Léofa, stepping back to stand with his father.

Skirfir took himself to a spot in the middle of the arena, and Léofa spurred her big stallion into a walk, then clucked him into a steady lope around the perimeter. Bard and Fjalar picked up a pair of stuffed targets and stood at the ready. The idea was to place them _after_ Skirfir was on the horse so he wouldn't be too prepared for the shot.

Léofa circled the arena twice, giving praise to her mount, then stepped up the speed. Skirfir stood still, having practiced this move, and waited. On the next pass, Léofa turned the horse in his direction, leaned down, and offered her hand, the horse in full gallop.

Skirfir caught the hand and swung himself up, knees sliding into the hooks on the pillion saddle as Léofa brought the stallion's head around to face the targets. Skirfir balanced himself, nocked an arrow and armed his bow, eyes searching for the dummies: they were on his right, and as the horse pounded across the arena, Skirfir aimed, fired, drew, and fired again.

Léofa slowed the big horse and Skirf looked over his shoulder to see that he'd hit both targets dead center. He heard Fili whoop and the small crowd clapped their approval.

"That's our lad!" Fili was grinning.

"Next, we'll take it outside," Fjalar said as he and Bard led the way to the far end of the arena and the archway out. Skirfir, still mounted behind Léofa on the stallion, rode along in silence.

"Erebor can certainly fabricate your metal saddle frames," Fili was saying to Bard. "If the Dale saddle-makers can do the leather work."

Bard was nodding.

Skirfir knew Bard was intent on pioneering this modification: his saddle-makers could sell to Rohan, Gondor, the dwarves…clearly he saw profit.

If Skirfir had learned nothing else in his association with the Sons of Durin, it was that part of running a Kingdom was building commerce. Erebor mined raw materials, to be sure, but allies with spending money meant Erebor had more buyers for anything it could produce.

And it was then that the sound of a truly frightened child reached their ears. Skirfir saw his King look up in horrified alarm, then turned in time to see a long-legged courier steed race past with the King's small daughter precariously on its back.

"Hold on!" Léofa kicked her stallion and Skirf had only a moment to grab tight to her belt before the big Rohan war horse surged after the runaway.

The loose courier horse bolted through the archway, nearly running over a trio of dwarves coming in.

_Kili,_ Skirfir noted. _Nÿr…and someone else._

Léofa spurred her horse to follow, expertly negotiating the turn out of the arena and charging after the runaway. That horse had made it to the main road.

At the guard station, the alarm bell was ringing, alerting travelers on the road. People saw the runaway horse and darted left and right to get out of the way. Luckily, it bolted for higher ground and climbed a short bank, gaining the open slope that ran down to the lake.

Skirfir's heart pounded as Léofa guided her stallion up the same bank, aiming to gain the open ground and intercept the fleeing horse. He hunkered close to Léofa's back, but he looked around her, catching sight of the small lass who'd somehow ended up on a panicked courier horse many times too large and fast for a dwarfling child.

Even worse, the reins of the runaway horse dangled dangerously loose—it could trip at any moment and mean disaster for both the horse and the errant little rider.

"You'll have to grab her!" Léofa shouted over her shoulder. "I'll go for the reins!"

Skirfir nodded. _Mahal, let her hang on until we catch up! _

Iri was small enough to hunker low on the saddle, but Skirfir could see her sliding left or right every time the horse dodged a rock or a shrub. At least her hands were tight on the saddle horn…

Skirfir hooked his knees tighter to the pillion saddle and leaned, much like he would if he were shooting his bow.

"Iri!" he shouted as they came alongside and matched speed. "Hang on!"

The spooked courier horse shied, veering right.

Léofa let loose with a long phrase that had to be cursing, then maneuvered her war horse closer and Skirfir gauged the distance between his outstretched hand and Iri's waist…he needed a firm hold.

Because if he dropped her, there would be no forgiving himself.

Léofa leaned low and called to the runaway horse, using a combination of clipped words and brisk whistles. The panicked horse slowed a little, but clearly it wasn't ready to stop. And then Léofa's warhorse surged ahead and she leaned forward, hugging its neck and reaching for the loose reins of the other steed. At the same time, Skirfir took his chance.

"Iri!" he hooked his knees tight and reached out. "Take my hand!" he cried, suddenly afraid he would unbalance and they'd both fall.

"No!" Iri cried, shaking her head. She looked at her hands, tight on the pommel.

_What…?_ Skirfir stretched farther, guessing that she was frightened of letting go. At the same time, Léofa's first grab for the reins missed. The panicked courier horse was not slowing down.

"Trust me, Iri! Now!"

He saw her terrified face turn to him, feared she was too panicked to let go, then got his arm around her and somehow managed to shift their weight back to Léofa's horse.

"Got her!" he cried to Léofa, getting his arm more firmly around Iri and feeling her shaking in fear. Léofa reached again and managed to grab one of the dangling reins this time.

But Iri struggled in his arms and Skirfir feared he'd lose his hold.

"Iri! Stay still for me!"

"No!" She stretched her arm toward the runaway horse, then turned her tear-streaked face to him, eyes wide in despair. "Kitten!" she cried. "We have to save it, Skirfir! We have to!"

Completely confused, Skirfir tried to make sense.

That's when he heard Léofa let loose with a string of epithets. "On the saddle horn!" Léofa called to him.

Skirfir leaned forward to look. There, tied to the saddle horn was a small leather sack with a little black and white head poking out in sheer bewilderment.

His first thought was that the King's daughter was far more precious than a stable cat.

"Save him!" Iri implored again. "Skirfir! Please?" Tears spilled down her cheeks.

_Mahal._ Skirfir's heart ached for the lass. It was all too obvious that someone had lured her to the horse by tying a bagged kitten to the saddle. Impulsively, Skirfir wanted to undo that cruelty and if he caught up with the bastard who'd done it, run him through. This was not even a childish prank—and the idea that it played on Iri's sympathy in order to put her in danger hardened his resolve.

He had his battle bow on his back and a good chance—he held Iri tight against his left hip, grabbed the wooden weapon and stretched the length of the recurve bow toward the saddle, neatly hooking the leather sack. He had the kitten back in Iri's outstretched hand in no time.

He heard her cry of relief and felt her clutching the wriggling sack.

"All right!" he cried to Léofa, getting his arm more firmly around the little dwarfling and her tiny charge, feeling her shaking in delayed shock. Léofa released the other horse's reins now and veered away, slowing her stallion as they were quickly overtaken by three other horsemen who took charge of slowing the Courier horse.

"I won't let you go," Iri said to the kitten. "I've got you, kitten." Then Iri looked up at him. "You saved him," she breathed. For a moment their eyes met, and he was taken by how trusting and innocent Iri was.

_King's daughter... _ Skirfir felt an odd protectiveness surge in his blood. _Mahal's luck,_ he told himself. He blinked, privately horrified at what he'd just done, trying hard not to think of the near disaster.

"Lady Léofa…" he said, relief in his voice. "Mahal's blessing, lass. You saved her…"

Léofa looked over her shoulder at them. "That was your strong arm, archer boy." She made one shake of her head in admiration. "You dwarves carry your weight low…a man couldn't have managed that…but you did!" She slapped his knee. "Let's call it teamwork."

Skirfir kept his arms tight around Iri, letting her clutch the kitten, incessantly meowing now that it was riding more comfortably.

"Who in Sauron's hell would do that to a baby cat?" Léofa's glower could rival Kili's. The kitten quieted in Iri's arms.

Skirfir clenched his jaw. "No idea. But if I find him, he better run."

Léofa snorted. "Chase him my way. I'll acquaint him with my sword."

At that point, Bard rode up with Fili behind him, and the horses were slowed, Fili handed down, and Skirfir eased the King's daughter into her very frightened father's hands.

Fili went to his knees, daughter enfolded in his arms, eyes clenched tight.

Skirfir took the hand Léofa offered and slid down. There were more people coming towards them and Fili had to see the cause of this before everyone else arrived on the scene. He put one hand on Iri's back and leaned down.

"Show him your kitten, Iri," Skirfir said gently.

Fili looked up, irritated and baffled. "Kitten?"

Iri looked down and produced the bag with the black and white head poking out. Predictably, the kitten meowed plaintively, clearly wanting its mother.

Fili looked, then his face went stone still.

"She just wanted to save the kitten," Skirfir murmured, guessing that Fili had already come to the same conclusion he and Léofa had. "What I want to know is who would do such a thing."

"You and me both," Fili said quietly, pulling Iri and her kitten close to his chest.

* * *

****Thanks for reading!** As always, leave me a note or PM and let me know what you thought! Special thanks to **Cassandrala**, **Jessie152**, and **BlueRiverSteel** for beta reading! I think (hope) this chapter is better based on their input. Hats off!

If you're a writer, I invite you to join me in November for National Novel Writing Month (**NaNoWriMo**.) Check out their website and take a look at the guidelines. They aren't quite ready for signups, but you will find me there as Summer Alden...feel free to PM me about it if you have questions!

**Mahal's blessings!** And I have been adding new art to my Pinterest page...just google Summer Alden Pinterest and it should come up!******


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Kili, Prince of Erebor, grabbed Levender by the collar, startling the lad but not slowing his pace. He marched the supposed Assistant Secretary to the Blue Mountains council straight to the knot of men and dwarves gathered around Erebor's King.

Fili looked up from comforting his little daughter and glared. Skirfir stood, sensing his Prince's mood, his expression grim.

"Confess now or we drag it out of you by force," Kili spat, throwing Levender toward Skirfir, who was all too willing to pin the lad's arms back and restrain him.

Kili watched Lev's expression go from shocked, to calculating, to feigned innocence as Nÿr slipped past, quietly gathered Iri and the little kitten into her arms and took them to stand near Léofa and Bard. Léofa drew her sword, rested the tip on the ground, and folded her hands over the hilt, eyes narrowed as if daring anyone to come near Erebor's princesses.

Fili stood to face Levender. "Explain this," he said, his voice tight.

"I'm…" Lev looked from Fili to the others. "I don't understand…"

"I don't understand, _my Lord_," Kili corrected, glaring.

"What?" Levender's brows came together in genuine confusion now. Skirfir tightened his grip.

"_My Lord_ is how any true Assistant Secretary would address the King of Erebor. You are not a dwarf who's had court protocol drilled into his head. You were coming from the stables when you bumped into me on my way in…and you were completely shocked to see my Lady Wife beside me and had no idea that I had even married," he said. "When the Blue Mountains Council was all too quick to send their congratulations not four months back." Kili drew his long knife—an insult that said Lev wasn't worth a bigger weapon—and pointed it at the lad's heart, though he stayed several steps back. "You are no assistant to anyone in the Blue Mountains, unless that person is a traitor."

Levender paled visibly at the sight of Kili's blade.

"Who sent you and why are you here?" Fili asked in a low, threatening voice, taking a step closer.

Lev made the mistake of raising his chin to Erebor's King.

Fili's right hook sent the lad sprawling.

Skirfir looked down at him in disgust, and in two heartbeats had his bow in his hand and an arrow nocked and aimed at Lev.

"Answer or I hand you to my brother," Kili said, glowering. "Who's got far more frightening means of getting truth from an enemy."

Lev looked up at Fili, wiping blood from his mouth. "You cannot compel me to say anything," he spat, his lip curled in a sneer.

Kili saw him, now, for what he was.

"Oh yes he can," Kili growled. "And I will help him do it."

Behind them, Bard cleared his throat. "My Lord King of Erebor," he said with formal respect in his voice. "May I respectfully request the right of extradition."

Fili and Kili both turned to look at their friend with eyes wide. From the corner of his eye, Kili saw one of Bard's men bend to take charge of Lev, who had rolled sideways, trying to get to his feet. The man yanked him upright and pinned his arms behind him again.

"Under what crime, My Lord King of Dale?" Fili asked.

"I suspect him of Tampering with this Courier Horse," Bard said, resting his hands on his belt. "Which put it in danger of deadly injury and would have deprived me of a valuable horse. And we have a treaty about such things."

Fili's brows came together as he considered this. Dale had very strict laws that protected their horses, especially from rustlers. The couriers served Erebor under the condition of remaining under Dale law.

"And as your Lord brother has shown me," Bard continued. "We have different laws when it comes to methods for getting information."

Kili stood straighter, considering Bard. The lad was offering a way for them to keep a traitor out of the mountain for Durin's Day, since Bard well knew that Erebor's King and Prince differed in their views of using the mountain's mithril magic.

"Redbane," Kili murmured low enough that only Fili and Bard heard him. The potion was illegal in Erebor as it loosened a dwarf's tongue quickly and effectively. But it was not banned in Dale, and there were in fact a few Dale brewers who produced the stuff—it was simply a heady and expensive liqueur to men.

Fili's expression relaxed. "Causing harm to a courier horse is indeed a serious matter, My Lord King of Dale," Fili said. "And there's no doubt I'd sleep better _without_ scum like this inside the mountain. Even in our dungeons."

"Dale's gaol is quite secure," Kili confirmed. "Their wardens are the match of ours."

Fili looked past Bard, to the place where Léofa stood watch over Nÿr and Iri, who were busy checking the kitten for injury.

Kili silently blessed his Lady Wife for distracting his little niece.

"One condition," Fili said. "Hold him until we can conduct an interrogation together. Five days from now."

Bard made a show of considering and then nodding. "Couldn't possibly schedule that until Wednesday, next," he said, neatly suggesting a full week past Durin's Day.

"Shame," Kili said. "Yet I'm certain Dale can see the prisoner kept reasonably warm and fed until then?"

"Oh, aye."

"Agreed," Fili said, turning his back on Lev and leaving him to Bard. He went to Nÿr and Iri, bending to check on his daughter.

Kili let his breath out and nodded a silent thanks to Dale's King. Keeping Fili from using mithril magic was a welcome thing, especially since the holidays were upon them. Bard returned his thanks by placing his hand on his heart and sharing a small smile. He knew that the Autumn Incursion had caused strain between the brothers, now resolved. He wished to see it stay that way.

Dale soldiers flanked the suspected traitor dwarf, leading him away. Bard and Léofa went with them, and Kili could tell that Léofa, at least, would just as soon run the lad through on the spot for the threat done to a defenseless dwarfling child and helpless baby animal.

"_Urkhasel_," Lev cursed as they passed. "To do this to a cousin…"

Kili shook his head, expression still. "There's no proof of that," Kili said in a growl. "No kin of my father would show up here under false pretenses and threaten harm to a child."

Lev looked blank, then his attention was taken by the three men who jerked him forward, blades at his back.

"Let's go home," Fili said as the men departed and left the small group of dwarves. Skirfir stepped back, arrow still at the ready. Next to him, Fjalar had drawn his sword, protecting his back.

Fili stood with Iri in his arms and Nÿr close by with the little kitten, now calm and content.

Fili and Kili assessed each other. "You all right?" Kili asked, knowing that his brother had been frightened out of his wits.

Fili nodded, and his sharp eyes showed he'd noticed the dark circles under Kili's eyes and the slight limp.

Kili saw his brother's shoulders fall as Fili sighed, his expression resigned.

Kili looked away, then back. He met his brother's gaze with bleakness.

They didn't need words to understand that the curse was poised to make its annual comeback.

"Take the next couple days off. Go rest," Fili said quietly.

Kili shook his head. "No. I need to stay busy. It helps."

Fili frowned. "Do_ not_ make me go looking for you in a snow storm," he said sternly, clearly referring to last Durin's Day when Kili had found himself trapped outside the western terrace in a blizzard.

Kili suppressed a smile. "Do you think Nÿr's letting me out of her sight?"

"I hope not," Fili said frankly. "I'm counting on her good sense to keep you out of trouble." He looked at his little daughter in his arms. "Let's get you home, Iri."

Kili reached out to gently wipe a forgotten tear from her face. Safe in her father's strong arms, Iri pressed her cheek to his coat and closed her eyes.

Mahal. Someday, Kili hoped, the dark forces of the world would stop trying to harm the children of Durin.

* * *

Kili and Nÿr kept their promise to Bofur for dinner that night, with Skirfir along as invited guest . The day's events had put a damper on their holiday spirits, but Kili was determined not to sit in fear of his curse. True to his word to Fili, he meant to keep himself busy.

Besides, Bombur served the best savory soup of anyone in the Mountain. How could he miss that?

So they found themselves happy and cozy at a trestle table in front of Bombur's massive kitchen hearth, deep in the miner's levels below the main gate, fire roaring warm and bright.

It was a perfectly fine meal for Erebor's Prince and Princess, who'd after all both spent most of their lives among the troops and trainees. Kili and Nÿr might both be scions of Durin, but neither one had led lives of luxury and they spent their time in service to their people. To be honest, they both preferred Bombur's homely hearth to the formal grandeur of the Great Hall and a state dinner.

Which had been cancelled, thank Mahal. Tomorrow night promised to be nothing more than a big, happy Eve of Eve banquet for the general population of the Mountain, from scullery maid to Queen. It was the first of the Durin's Day celebrations and not to be missed.

"I've a mind to go on that journey back to the Blue Mountains with you," Bofur announced as he took up his ale mug.

Kili raised his eyebrows. "Are you serious?"

Bofur set down his mug and winked. "Quite. The last of the family's still back there. I've a mind to take this lass," he nodded toward Bombur's grand-daughter Embur, "And Bendin there," he tilted his head toward her brother. His two young relatives sat at a side table with Skirfir, discussing the finer points of winter ales. "Time Bendin there found himself a miner lass to take care of him. Here, he's one of several hundred bachelors. There, he's a very interesting catch."

Kili considered this. Kin travelled between settlements all the time for this reason, more so now that it was a little safer. It wasn't an unusual request. "Do they know why we're going?"

Bofur shook his head. "They don't even know we ARE going."

Kili nodded. Bofur knew, of course, as a member of Erebor's council, that Kili had accepted the Blue Mountains' request for him to take up their kingship. Few others did.

"I can't deny that it'd be a relief to have you along," he said to his old friend. "There's no one better than you at hounding out information from locals and you're an unpredictable genius in a fight."

Bofur's smile went from ear to ear. "Aye…gift of the gab my old mum used to say and a wily old scrapper." He held up his mug in her honor and then turned more serious. "Our young Bendin's got promise. There's a thing or two I can teach that lad along the way," he twitched his brows. "And the lassie, she's well on with her healer studies. I'm thinking she might make right decent help for our Lady Physician here."

Kili looked at Nÿr. He certainly thought she could use the help and maybe even a fellow lassie as a travelling companion.

Nÿr's eyes had lit up. "I'd be honored to have her along," she said. "Embur's a top notch medic. Knows her way around the delivery room as well."

Bofur frowned. "Is that helpful?"

Nÿr smiled and raised an eyebrow.

Bofur stared, mouth open. Then he closed it. He looked at Kili, who made a slight nod and smiled, too. Bofur clearly understood the implication that Nÿr was expecting. "And you're _travelling_?" he said in a hushed tone.

"I'll be safe inside Khelethur before anyone realizes there's anything up," Nÿr laughed.

Kili shrugged. "She can do what she feels like doing." But he squeezed her hand and looked at her. "I have to admit, It'd be a relief to have another lass along, though."

Nÿr agreed. "Healers go on exchange all the time. It's not good to limit ourselves to one enclave's methods. Spending some time at Ered Luin will make Embur a far better healer in the long run."

"Good," Bofur nodded. "Can we call it settled, then?"

Kili reached his fist across the table and they bumped knuckles, a miner's gesture of agreement. "Done," Kili said. They followed with fresh mugs of ale, downed in one great swallow.

Much later, tables cleared and pipes filled, Kili pulled out the picture frame that the dwarf calling himself Levender had delivered.

Bofur opened it and considered the two pictures.

"This is your mother, about the time you were born," he said. "But this other one—this is Fili."

Kili frowned. "He said it was my Da…that it was Gunnvald."

Bofur quirked an eyebrow. "The Broadbeam yellow hair—that's Gunnvald's. But the blue eyes are Fili. Gunnvald's were brown—like yours, lad."

Kili blinked. "Not blue?"

Bofur shook his head. "Fili's blue eyes come from his grandfather, same place Thorin got 'em." He held up the picture. "And Gunnvald had a longer nose. This," he tapped the picture. "Is Fili."

Kili took the picture back, unable to keep a little disappointment from his heart.

Bofur's eyes were sympathetic. "When we get to Ered Luin I've no doubt we'll find a few of your Da's people around the place. He was from the line of Telchar. You'll find 'em in the smithies."

Kili blanched. "The legendary smith...?"

Bofur smiled. "Aye. Telchar was a Broadbeam, but he lived and worked in Belegost and married a Firebeard, so the stories tell us. Your Da's people are a small clan, even so. Very homebound. Stay near their forges. Gunnvald was the odd adventurous one. Hared off after Thorin…married his sister, even. It was quite the thing at the time…pairing a Daughter of Durin to the line of Telchar."

Kili snorted. "And look where that got him."

Bofur's smile was sad. "Bloodlines aside, he loved your mother, lad. Very much."

* * *

Dinner the following night turned out to be a very pleasant Durin's Day Eve of Eve party, so-called as it took place two nights before Durin's Day proper.

Unlike the over-crowded hall of last year, this year the party was just for residents, and instead of being packed like fish in a barrel, the banquet was pleasantly spacious and included whole families, from new little ones to oldsters by the fire.

For Kili and Nÿr, it was a bit of an anniversary and they found themselves remembering the events one year ago with Fili, Dwalin, their collective kids, and Bofur.

"I was stalling," Kili confessed, finishing off a flagon of winter wheat ale. "The idea of having to dance with all the highborns..." He looked miserable just recalling it.

"I was on medic duty," Nÿr said. "Uniform and a satchel," she rolled her eyes. Clearly she was dressed more festively this evening in rich velvets and glowing sapphires.

"So there's Iri," Kili went on. "Bleeding with a head wound after play-battle with Iron Hills lads. I sent a page off for a medic and he brings a _lass_…wearing Ered Luin colors," he grinned. "Just takes charge and next thing I know, Iri's happy, peace accord accomplished…and then..." He made a *poof* motion with his hand. "Gone. Didn't even catch her name."

"Aye," Bofur piped up, refilling Kili's flagon. "But she caught your eye," he said with a wink.

"That she did," Kili smiled at his lady wife. "And when I made down here to the party, I looked everywhere. Of course it was the biggest crowd we've ever had for the Eve of Eve. Finally spotted her."

"I just remember being petrified that Lady An had cornered me and was making introductions," Nÿr blushed. "I mean, introducing _me_…to a really well-dressed commander…the very one I'd just met in the upstairs halls, _and _turns out it's the King's brother, no less!"

"She fled," Kili recalled, eyes wide. He made another *poof* motion.

Nÿr covered her eyes with one hand. "I did."

Kili set his hand on hers in sympathy. "Next night, Skirf ends up caught in one of those rockfalls set by that band of slagheads. I get out on the western terrace, blizzard is pounding the mountain like nothing else…" Kili shook his head.

"And I'm busy triaging the wounded…and there he is _again_." Nÿr's shook her head slightly, recalling her shock.

Kili grinned. "Luckily, we got Skirfir and his broken leg sent up on a lift before the worst of the storm."

"Luckily…" Nÿr rolled her eyes.

Fili was laughing now, "You know, the guard commander showed up to tell me you were stranded on the slope with a healer lass and I almost cheered," he said. "In fact, my exact words were something like, _that could be highly interesting_."

Kili and Nÿr both blushed now. She looked at him. "You kissed me," she said, embarrassed.

"I gambled," he shrugged, his love for her apparent to everyone. "It must have been my lucky day—because you kissed me back."

Everyone laughed. Fili looked immensely smug. Across the hall, his Lady Wife, nearly back to her old self after recovering from a frightening head injury, was prompting the chamberlains to their duty. Plates were being cleared and some of the tables re-positioned. It was time for traditional Eve of Eve dancing and a small group of musicians gathered on a raised platform with instruments ranging from small flutes to large sets of pipes.

Bofur took up his hand drum and tapped the skin, tuning it. "There's a dance, you know," he said to Fjalar and Beka. "That was a particular favorite of Thorin and Lady Dís when they lived in the Blue Mountains…"

"Durin's Blades?" Nÿr asked.

"Ah lassie, I see you know it." Bofur grinned.

"At Ered Luin, we all danced it on the Eve of Eve," she laughed. "So good thing I already know it." She looked at Kili and squeezed his hand. "We've been practicing, actually."

Fili snorted. "I've no doubt. Better do it _properly_, since you're both descendants of Durin."

Fjalar was looking perplexed. "Does it really involve blades?"

"Ah," Fili said, setting down his flagon. "I see our youngsters could use some lessons!"

Bofur's face lit up. "I've got my drum and I'll wager those pipers there know the tune."

Bofur had the musicians on board in less than a minute and to Nÿr's surprise, Fili led the kids to the dance floor for royal lessons. Amused, the party-goers around the hall watched in delight.

"The trick," Fili told his lads and Beka. "Is to understand that it's really two songs in one. For us lads, the movements are easy." Kili stood to join his brother.

Nÿr intervened, hooking Beka's elbow. "And for us lasses, it's not that hard either."

Dwalin stood to hold out an arm out to his daughter and lead her and Nÿr to a side area away from the lads. "And I'll show you Lady Dís's personal variation." He winked at Beka. "And I promise you'll like it."

Fili stayed with the lads and looked at Fjalar and Gunz, joined by Skirfir, Mieth, and few other trainee lads. "You know the _ashmêkh_, yes?"

The lads all nodded, and Kili assumed the classic fighting stance and with his clenched fists, demonstrated the basic battle positions every beginning dwarf warrior learned in training: fists clenched at the hip, fists forward, then fists one over the other, overhead in a V, crossed in front, and then down and out to the side.

"Put the _ashmêkh_ foot positions with it and you're there. It just repeats," he grinned.

Fili nodded, coming to stand beside Kili. "Listen for the pipes—they play the slower melody in the music, and that's the one you follow."

"Stand in a line lads, and we'll walk through it." Kili stood next to his brother.

"We'll try it slow," Bofur nodded, playing a count of six. "Lads take the first beat of every three." He played and emphasized the first of every triplet. ONE, two, three, One, two, three."

By the seventh repetition Gunz was grinning. "This is easy!" he said.

"It is," Kili agreed. "Now add the foot positions." He demonstrated, and Fili's lads, having learned the _ashmêkh _since they could walk, did well.

Bofur kept his drum going, and he smiled at them.

Kili coached them to the next part. "Now you have to get some _ûrzudâl_ faces going," he said, making a stern warrior face. "Show your partner how serious you are…" He adopted a rather serious posture and repeated the _ashmêkh _movements, this time with a warrior-like drama that had the youngsters giggling.

"Don't laugh…get on with it," Kili teased. Fjalar managed a stern _hauteur_ worthy of Thorin's majestic bearing. Gunz, on the other hand, presented a comical clenched-teeth glare with one bright eye.

"There you are, Gunz," Kili teased. "Just like your Da."

Fili was challenged to keep a straight face.

And then Kili added slow and graceful movement between positions so their hands flowed between the positions. "Give the impression of your strength reigned in," he murmured, serious now. "The Blades of Durin are very strong," he coached, "so we have to hold back a bit with the ladies around…"

"Good lads," he said when they had it down.

"Ready to try it with the lasses?" Fili asked, clearly enjoying himself.

Gunz looked worried, Fjalar determined.

"Don't worry," Dwalin said, joining them with a gleam in his eye. "The music goes all over the place and the lassies'll be prancing about…but you stick nice and steady to the _ashmêkh_, pretend you've got swords in your fists and you'll be fine."

With that, the dance formed up. Fili and An centered themselves in the middle of the hall, facing each other about six feet apart. Kili and Dwalin flanked Fili, facing Nÿr and Beka.

It was lost on no one that the three older Sons of Durin wore their battle blades, sheathed,with hilts visible.

Fjalar, Gunz, and lads from the audience took up places in line, face to face with lassie partners, until the line stretched the length of the dance floor. Fili's lads faced a couple of older trainee lasses, brave enough to stand with Beka and partner the King's sons.

Bofur shouted, "Hey!" and the musicians took up the beat and the slower melody as the lads bowed to the lasses and the lasses made a hand-on-heart nod, holding their hands still over their hearts while the lads completed the first noble round of the _ashmêkh _positions, faces stern, movements graceful and precise.

On the second repeat, the lasses kicked up their heels and raised their hands, stomping and clapping at triple the pace of the lads. The basic steps were repeated, and then the musicians varied the loudness of the refrain, sometimes playing a rousing set, then a quiet, more reflective one. The lasses would dance lively, then slow with the music and sidle up to the lads, looking coy at the restraint of their ceremonial _ashmêkh_, then back up to dance lively again while the lads remained steadfast and purposeful.

The dance was designed to repeat, and at the end of a good few dozen rounds, the musicians brought the dance to a close, though Bofur kept his hand drum going.

This was the signal for everyone, including Gunz and Fjalar, bow out, leaving only Dwalin, Fili, and Kili on the floor, partnered by Beka, An, and Nÿr. Eagerly, everyone stood to watch the next part.

With a ring of steel, the Sons of Durin drew swords and fighting axes, and when the music started again, they faced their lady partners and performed the _ashmêkh_ with live steel, going through the formal motions— with added flourishes—as one, their years of warrior training obvious.

By the third repetition, the music became more spritely and the blades whirled and spun, flashing with reflected light as they whooshed in time with each other. They also adopted the positions of the advanced _ashmêkh,_ which called for bigger, more dramatic movements.

All the while the lads kept their serious countenance and focus as the lassies kicked their heels and added a few flourishes of their own, turning in more complicated steps than the larger group had managed. During a slow round, they surprised the entire hall by facing their partners with equally serious warrior faces, each drawing matching long knives hidden in their skirts, sharp and glinting.

They proceeded to echo the lads' _ashmêkh_ motions with the correct counter-moves. Around the hall, any warrior lad or lass with blade training whooped to see it, shouting their approval and encouragement.

After three sets, everyone bowed out, leaving Kili and Nÿr alone in the center of the hall as the musicians played full bore. They stepped closer together, four blades whirling and they actually circled each other, maintaining their concentration. Kili's perfect, powerfully whirling _ashmêkh _were followed by Nÿr's smaller and more subtle but equally deadly blades.

The dance finally ended with Nÿr's back to Kili's chest as he "protected" her within the circle of his arms, his large _ashmêkh _motions with paired swords encompassing her with her smaller, graceful knives.

When the music stopped, they froze, blades extended. As the hall roared with applause, Nÿr grinned over her shoulder at her husband, who captured her mouth in an admiring kiss.

The shouts and applause thundered through the hall, and no could recall ever having seen the _Blades of Durin_ performed with more fun, skill, and romance.

Kili carefully sheathed his swords and gallantly helped Nÿr with her knives.

"Who knew?" Someone shouted, referring to Nÿr's unknown skill with a blade.

Fili shrugged. "Master Physician," he shouted back. "Has to know her way around a knife!" Laughter erupted, followed by congratulations and hoots of approval.

Nÿr blushed. Kili took her hand and led her to the family table, offering her water and generally enjoying the sight of her as the center of everyone's attention. It was certainly a far better Eve of Eve party than last year.

And he welcomed her kiss when she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck.

He came up for air when his brother nudged his arm. "Company," Fili said. "Looks like they just got here."

Dwalin was walking toward a trio of weathered warrior dwarves dressed Firebeard style, arms spread wide in greeting. He obviously knew the three travelers.

"Lads!" Dwalin embraced them like old battle brothers and there were broad smiles and much back patting. Bofur joined them, offering up ale.

"Who are they?" Kili asked, his voice low so only Fili and Nÿr heard him.

Fili's smile was broad. "The Bruns brothers. Brunsmund, Brunskald, and Brunsder… though don't ask me to sort them." He shrugged. "Thorin always called them all Bruns." His blue eyes were merry and he raised his flagon. "Bona fide, actual cousins of our father."

* * *

****Hope you enjoyed the chapter!** As always, please drop a quick note as a review or PM as your feedback keeps me working hard on drafting out the story. It's getting to be a busy time for everyone. My intention is to keep the chapters coming out about every week or 10 days. Huge appreciation to my beta buddies, **BlueRiverSteel**, **Cassandrala**, and **Jessie152**. Check out their stories-and kudos to them! They are the BEST.

****Added Note: Music reference** (with a thank you shout out to **Karebear119**!) is Adrian von Ziegler's _Fear No Darkness_. It just struck me as a great folk dance tune...It's on iTunes and YouTube...just google it. Can also try cut/paste of this string: watch?v=tWpe2ppRRGg

* * *

Khuzdul from the Dwarrow Scholar's Neo-Khuzdul Online Dictionary (google it.)

_Urkhasel = demon of demons (extra nasty one)_

_Ashmêkh_ = the salutes (fighting practice positions)

_Ûrzudâl = _battle glower


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Kili, brother of the King, had made a point of exhausting himself on the day of Durin's Eve of Eve and stayed late at the party. By the time Nÿr and Kili closed the door on their private rooms, they were looking forward to a long sleep.

Durin's Day would soon be upon them, curse and all.

Nÿr understood from the way he walked close and held her hand tightly that Kili did not want to be left alone. In fact, over the long years of carrying his curse, she suspected that he'd been left alone too often. He'd trusted, for so many years, only his brother…but Fili had many responsibilities, and only one of them was Kili.

Inside their bedchamber, Kili sat and pulled her toward him. She put one knee on the bed beside him and straddled his lap, smiling as his fingertips slid the robe from her shoulders.

Yet when she bent to kiss him, he looked as tired and careworn as she'd ever seen him, even after they'd rescued him from the goblin cave last summer. She could see the age lines around his eyes, the grey in his hair…and his color was off. She knew the fever was creeping up on him, no matter how hard he tried to hold it at bay.

He looked up at her with bleakness in his eyes, like a soldier with his love before departing for battle, as if fearing it would be their last night together. He was sober and serious and leaned into her when she wrapped protective arms around him, nuzzling her throat when she tucked him close.

"Mahal," he murmured in a deep voice. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you…"

"Shhh," she soothed him, kissing his forehead and cupping his face. "I'm not going anywhere."

He still looked worried, and his hands on her back were tentative and just a bit shaky even as his mouth was insistent and his kisses needy.

And then she suddenly understood: he craved her love as if it were an antidote to the harsh curse dealt to him with so much hate.

It explained a lot, Nÿr realized. It was why he had been so bold and forward a year ago when they'd been stranded in that snowstorm. A little mutual understanding about past indiscretions…an elf, a Dale man…and any inhibitions or sense of propriety had vanished. Two dwarves in self-imposed exiles, they had recognized each others' ability to see beyond past mistakes and sensed each others' genuine lonliness.

Nÿr cherished him like nothing else in the world, and as a wave of feelings washed over her, they made love. She opened herself to his need and afterward held him close. She pushed the hair back from his brow with her fingers, making slow, gentle motions that made him close his eyes.

"I love you," she whispered, her lips lazy on his forehead. "Always, Kili." His hand found hers, his strained expression softened a little.

"Love you, too," he said in deep murmur, gently kissing her just below the ear. Their fingers wove together. She brought his hand to her lips, she turned her cheek to rest against his forehead. His hand brushed her hip, then pulled her closer.

"Would you like to hear?" she asked, then.

"Hear?"

She guided his hand over the little growing baby within. "If you put your ear just here," she held his hand in the right place, "and listen, you can hear his heart beating."

Kili raised his head, his vulnerable, bleary eyes blinking. "You…you're serious?"

She smiled. "If we're both really quiet, you'll pick it up. It's like this," she tapped on the back of his hand in the little patter that was familiar to her as a healer. "Embur heard it yesterday."

He gently shifted position, laying his ear lightly against her bare skin and looking up at her. They lay still and quiet, and she could tell the instant he noticed. His eyes went very round and he froze. "How big is he now?" he whispered.

She held up two fingers. He blinked as he listened, then a shade of his familiar smile softened his expression as one hand gently cradled their little one.

"You get to name him," Kili murmured after a while, referring to the lassie's Other Choice: the sole right to Name her children.

"Good thing," Nÿr laughed softly. "You lads would name each other Rustynose or Hamhand."

Kili snorted, eyes twinkling a bit. "We probably would," he admitted. "How about Fistbasher?"

"No," Nÿr said firmly. "Absolutely not. His name is Kirin." She said a bit jokingly, not quite meaning to tell him this way.

Kili was suddenly thoughtful, considering it. "Kirin," he said softly. "That's perfect." He slid upwards to wrap his arms around her. "Unless we have a lass, here."

Nÿr shook her head. "Not a chance. This is a lad…don't know how I know, but I just know." She smiled and framed his face with her hands as they lay quiet. He closed his eyes.

"In a couple of years, I'll be teaching him to shoot," Kili said, "Just like I taught Fili's kids."

"Kirin will be a strong archer," Nÿr said, smiling. "I," she emphasized. "Will teach him to wash his hands before supper."

Kili chuckled. "Good luck. My Lady Mother tanned my backside more than once over that." He kissed her forehead lightly as their hands came together over her middle, united in protecting their tiny lad. They were three now. Kili, Nÿr, and Kirin.

Tonight they would all be safe. She urged Kili to stretch out then, pulling the blanket over them and snuggling against his side. If he didn't sleep, at least he rested. The real fever would start in earnest tomorrow.

And if love was indeed the antidote to a curse cast in hate, Nÿr was determined that Kili would have as much as he needed.

* * *

It was an hour or two before dawn when Nÿr gave up all pretense of trying to sleep. Kili lay still, snoring softly.

But her brain was too busy getting ready for his impending fever, almost as if she were mentally preparing to triage the wounded after a battle. Truth be told, there wasn't much a healer could do for Kili's curse. She could keep him from hurting himself…she could bathe him in steeped _athelas_, and she could hope that it kept the fever from rising too high.

She wondered if Fili was yet up.

_At least I can boil water, _she decided. Fili would need it to complete the healing spell Elrond had taught him.

She slipped from bed, quickly bathed and dressed without disturbing Kili, and walked silently into the large great room of their apartment. She turned up the oil lamps and then crouched to light the hearth fire.

She struck the flint once, then twice. Got nothing.

"I can do that."

She wasn't startled, but it wasn't Kili's voice—it was huskier and sounded as tired as she felt.

She turned to see Fili, dressed only in soft trousers and a thin shirt. She could smell the clean scent of Lady An's sage oil soap and realized he was as fresh from a bath as she was.

He took the flint from her and with a firm strike sent an impressive spray of sparks over the wood. Several small flames leapt up instantly.

"Thank you," Nÿr murmured, passing him a tin of small kindling to feed the growing fire and then swinging the kettle into place to start the water heating.

Fili had brought _athelas_, bundled and tied with twine. She cut the string and separated the stalks full of tiny leaves, laying them to one side of a broad copper bowl.

Fili joined her when the fire was roaring hot, his fingers touching the _athelas_ as if assessing it.

"What's this?" She pointed to tiny scratches on his hands.

She saw his lips curve in a ghost of a smile. "Iri's kitten. She's named him Skirmish, and he is indeed quite eager to take on anything, up to and including my fingers."

"Tunnel mice better beware," she smiled. She could just imagine Fili on the floor with Iri and the rescued kitten.

"I take it she's over the trauma of the runaway horse?"

Fili snorted. "The only one traumatized is me…and An when she heard us tell the story." He shook his head. "Iri's quite proud to have rescued a kitten, but An's not letting her out of sight for a month, I'm sure."

They looked at each other. They both knew that her mother could not protect her forever, but Iri was not the reason they were here boiling water in the early morning hours of Durin's Day Eve.

"Hard to sleep, isn't it." Fili wasn't asking a question; he was making a statement.

Nÿr nodded, unexplainably close to tears. Fili was after all the only one who could possibly understand. She was concentrating on not letting her welling eyes overflow when his arms came around her shoulders.

"Just hold on," he said quietly, rubbing her shoulder a little. "It hurts like hell, but hold on. Sunrise in two days. Just set your sights on that."

She nodded. To her embarrassment, she sniffed. " Fili…?"

"Hmm?"

"Tell me the truth. You know the curse can kill him."

Silence.

"You're a healer," he said, finally. "You know that fevers can take the mind and leave the body. You've even seen it."

Nÿr could only stare at the fire. "I've seen it go both ways," she admitted softly. "Sometimes the body fails and the mind is still lucid…sometimes the soul goes on to Aule's Halls, yet the body lingers." There. That was the danger she feared.

Fili nodded and let her go as if his arms were heavy. He went slowly to the fire and poked at it, the firelight illuminating his face.

For the first time, even with all the worry about his own Lady Wife this past year, Nÿr saw in his expression the weight of all his years, finally understanding that Fili held strong for the sake of his kingdom but his ability to keep doing it was not infinite.

"Just hold on," he repeated quietly. "It's all we can do."

Nÿr nodded. "I will if you will…"

She saw his expression falter then and saw his despair, his exhaustion, and the tears. Her inner strength surged then and she reached out to frame the face of her husband's brother and gently kiss his forehead.

"Courage, Fili."

When her beloved awoke, he was flushed, feverish, and predictably testy.

"I don't need all this," he complained, fending off her advances to get a good look at the old wound on his knee.

Fili distracted him with a bowl of steaming_ athelas_, and Nÿr was not deterred. She was after all quite experienced at getting her way when it came to treating tetchy old warriors. She'd even prevailed with their cousin Dwalin, and he was as irascible as any.

Kili's old wound was indeed swollen and angry, and faced with both his brother and his Lady Wife, Kili resorted to grumbling but allowed their help.

By sunrise his color was better, his knee less painful, and he looked nominally able to go about an abbreviated morning routine.

"Don't go any farther than Ravenhill," Fili said firmly, acknowledging that Kili needed to keep himself busy while he could. Ravenspeaking was at least a quiet endeavor. "And keep Nÿr with you. Send Skirfir if you have errands."

"All right," Kili agreed, half annoyed.

"I'll check on you again. If you don't behave, I swear I'll lock you in here." Fili pinned his brother with his best stubborn glare.

Kili deflated. "I'll behave…" he muttered.

Nÿr took it as the best promise of cooperation that they'd get. By tonight, the fever would be back with a vengeance…tomorrow, it would keep him in bed. And with the last light of Durin's Day, it would turn from inconvenient illness into raging nightmare.

* * *

As the sun rose, three of Erebor's royal youngsters were out on the western terrace shivering in the early morning cold.

Fjalar held an odd box under one arm and Beka carried an interesting cache of shiny objects and tasty treats. Gunz had nothing, but he wore his page's tunic and his light boots.

"How do they know when you want to talk?" Gunz asked.

"It's just their routine," Fjalar said. "Ravens talk to whichever one of us shows up every morning." He glanced back at Gunz. "But they don't know you yet, so you have to stay back."

Gunz stayed put and watched his brother and cousin go to the ravenspeaker platform, though he leaned forward to see what they were doing. After a few minutes his attention wandered. He noticed a round black stone embedded in the dirt and he scraped at it with his boots until it was free. Bored, he picked it up, identified it as hematite and let it fall back to the ground. Hematite was common in the mine tailings.

Realizing he let himself get distracted, he looked up, feeling instantly guilty. His brother would scoff at him and his cousin might well smack him on head.

But Fjalar and Beka were busy, starting to attract a few ravens. Page duty was pretty uninteresting most of the time, he reflected. There were lots of hours just waiting…though he had to admit that he'd discovered more hidden passages and back rooms in the last two months than he'd seen his whole life, and that included his fairly good understanding of the infirmary halls.

He looked over his shoulder at the gaping maw of the Western Terrace's gates. His page's tunic meant no one would stop him when he ran back through as long as he looked like he was delivering an urgent message.

And he would be. When Fjalar and Beka had their bird, he would head for the main gate and no one would try to hold him back.

Page duty: Best. Thing. _Ever._

And then he heard Beka's voice.

"Corax! There you are…" She had made her voice extra friendly and was holding up a shiny silver ring. "Special treat?"

One of the larger ravens was perched on a handrail next to her, its beady eyes curious, its beak angling for the little ring. Beka crooned to the bird and it sidestepped closer, but if it was talking to her, Gunz couldn't hear it.

And then Fjalar's quick hands captured the hapless raven from behind and it let out a loud squawk of surprise. Gunz watched with raised eyebrows as Fjalar popped the bird into the odd box while Corax set up a very loud, constant string of complaints. Together, Fjalar and Beka closed the lid and latched it, and suddenly the raven was quiet.

"He won't fall for that again," Beka said to Fjalar. Then she looked over her shoulder at Gunz and grinned. "Don't worry, they just go to sleep in the box. He's fine."

Fjalar looked at him more sharply, though. "That's it Gunz. Go!"

Gunz didn't need to be told twice. He spun on his feet and took off for the open gate, leaping rocks and finding the most direct route back inside. He passed a startled guard, who shouted, "Heyah!" Then, "Page!" to alert the next guards in line.

Gunz's way was clear and he raced through the inside cavern, crossing the muster area and heading for the Hub. He even managed the extra-secret pole slide, leaping to catch the smooth slender pipe and swing himself down the length of _two_ staircases. Landing on his feet, he darted for the open air bridge that would take him across the hub, dodging merchants and earning one admonition of, "Careful, laddie!"

But he kept going. Down to the gate level, across the King's Hall, stopping only when the Main Gate Commander called for his halt and demanded a report, as was proper for a page passing the gate.

"Ravenhill, Sir," Gunz panted. "Message for my uncle, the Prince."

"You're uncle's there, Lad," the Commander gestured toward a vestibule where his Uncle Kili stood with a knot of dwarves and a Dale messenger.

"The Vestibule, Sir." Gunz amended, still gasping.

"Good lad. Off you go," the Commander shooed him and Gunz darted forward.

He stopped and bowed respectfully when he made it to his Prince's side (he was careful to remember that in this case Kili was his Prince, not just his uncle) and then waited.

The knot of dwarves and the Dale man respectfully withdrew, and Gunz looked up to see his Uncle smiling at him.

"Mission accomplished?" he asked.

Gunz nodded. "Fjalar and Beka have Corax in a bird box. Fjalar says Go."

His uncle reached out to pat his shoulder. "Good lad. Catch your breath," he said, "And come along."

* * *

Kili stood with Nÿr at his back, receiving the most urgent ravens first, passing messages, and sending them off again. Twenty feet away, Skirfir stood as sentinel, his quiver full and his sword hilt in plain sight.

The morning's raven news was rather ordinary: snowfall to the east meant they would likely see flurries here by nightfall; a message from the Iron Hills that a group of merchant wagons were safely arrived; the routine checkin from Dale, reporting ordinary events,including one dwarf taken in by the Dale Militia for involvement in a drunken brawl. Kili would send the Erebor Guard up to collect him. And then the code phrase "canary sleeps," meaning that the errant dwarf Levender, or whoever he really was, remained secure in the Dale gaol.

Finally, and more importantly, the early scouting reports from the eastern ridge, the route so recently used by Easterlings, said that all was deserted and quiet.

"That's the last of them," Nÿr said next to him. "Have you seen the stranger?"

"He's over there," Kili nodded to a low branch of alderwood. "Let's hope this works."

Nÿr once again lured the few Erebor ravens still lingering about to the seed barrel. Most of them eagerly followed.

Kili kept his attention on the stranger bird, and with Corax detained by Fjalar and Beka, this time none of the other birds interfered.

"Raven Prince, Raven Prince," it muttered, almost too quietly for Kili to hear.

"I am Raven Prince. Come tell me your news, courageous one…" Kili held out his arm, carefully not making eye contact. Sometimes the shyer ravens would only come close if they thought he wasn't looking.

A minute later he was rewarded with a flap and a bobbing head, then the stranger bird landed tentatively on his arm, practically on his wrist.

"_Nabir…nabir…_" It clucked.

Kili frowned. Someone had given the bird the Khuzdul word for warning. "I hear you," he encouraged. "_Nabir_…a warning."

"_Emêgîn… Makalkuk… Makalkukhizdîn_."

Kili stared. A message all in Khuzdul…it was a miracle that the bird remembered it. Siege…copper mine.

"What copper mine, friend? Tell me more. Who sent you?" But he'd asked too many questions. The bird looked startled, then crouched as if he might sprint away.

"My fault," Kili crooned. "Good bird, smart bird." When the bird relaxed, he tried again. "_Emêgîn, Makalkukhizdîn," _he said. "Who sent this warning?"

"_Thakûn…_" The strange raven rubbed his beak on Kili's gauntlet.

Kili considered this. The word meant miner…but it implied a master miner, an engineer of mining. None of the Erebor Ravenspeakers fit that description, not by a long shot. It might describe Bofur, but Bofur was safe inside Erebor, and Bofur was not a Ravenspeaker.

"Where?" he whispered.

"_Tumunzahar…_" The raven said it clearly, then fixed him with one beady eye launched into the air. It didn't go far…but no amount of coaxing would get it to return. It hunkered miserably, peeking down at Kili but ultimately ignoring him.

_Tumunzahar_…the ancient name for Nogrod…Hollowbold. It was a lost city somewhere in the Blue Mountains, and all knowledge of its exact location was long lost.

What did this mean? Had someone named a copper mine after the legendary home of the Firebeards? Kili limped back to Nÿr, then gestured Gunz over. "Tell Fjalar to keep Corax in the aviary for a few days. Maybe this one will talk some more if Corax is kept from harassing him…" With that, Gunz turned to dash away. "Gunz!" Kili called after him.

Gunz turned as if expecting a reprimand.

"Go straight back. No detours," Kili said gently, lifting a brow. He well knew that the pages got up to mischief, and they still weren't certain that Levender had acted alone in baiting Iri. Gunz gave a page's bow, then took off.

Skirfir caught Kili's eye, silently asking if he should follow.

Kili nodded and Skirf turned to follow the youngster, going fast enough to tail the lad without actually revealing his presence.

"Thank you for sending Skirf," Nÿr murmured beside him. "Gunz is so brave, but…"

She didn't need to finish her statement. Kili knew that the lad was not yet big enough to be a match for a true enemy. "I think I need a moment to sit," he said then, easing himself to a bench. Nÿr waited without comment.

"Did I hear that bird speaking in Khuzdul?" she asked.

He nodded, absently rubbing his thigh. "Something about a siege in a copper mine. But if I heard him right, it's pretty far away from here."

Nÿr raised her brows. "What ravenspeaker would be far away from Erebor?"

Kili smiled. "Well, you—about a year and half ago," he teased, then sobered. "There is one Ravenspeaker who hasn't been seen in years…" Kili sighed and looked west, thinking for a few minutes.

Then he took his beautiful Lady Wife's hand and stood, testing his weight on his knee and blessing her good sense for not asking more questions. She was prudent, his Nÿr. She knew when secrets were best left untouched. Especially Durin family secrets.

* * *

Kili retired to his quarters then, causing both his Lady Wife and his royal brother much relief. He drank the feverfew tea that Nÿr made him, ate lightly, wiped sweat from his forehead, and spent his time in Nÿr's study long into the night. He was going through several old tomes of history that he hadn't cracked since the days when old Balin had forced him to study under threat of punishment from his uncle.

Balin had despaired of ever making a scholar out of Kili. But thanks to him, Kili did know how to do research. He well recalled Balin striving to make it interesting to young dwarf more suited to sword practice than book learning.

_You're looking for a kernel of the thing, like one nugget of gold in a river. You then have to trace it back to its source. Use the footnotes, lad. Mine the bibliography…_

He missed Balin. So many of the original company were gone…Bifur, dead in a battle not long after Fili had been crowned. Balin, Ori and Oin lost in Moria years ago. He'd heard Gimli's report first-hand: Balin's tomb, a cave-troll, and the watcher in the water…

Kili rubbed his forehead, realizing that his headache was the curse, not simple strain from reading late into the night.

_Mahal. _

His brother had come by and demanded his sword, his knives, his bow…in fact every weapon in the apartment. Taken. Locked away.

Then he'd ordered the storm doors to the outside ledge closed and sealed.

Kili stared at the oil lamp. One choice all those years ago. That was the cause of all this. They'd been trapped by the watergate outside Thranduil's Halls. He'd seen a chance to free Thorin and the others and he'd taken it. Willing heart.

Yet he was still paying the price for that act, eighty two years later. He could even remember the feel of the arrow hitting his knee…not so much a piercing of tissue and bone as a slamming blow of unspeakable force.

_Mahal, had that not happened, had I been able to leave Erebor, I would have gone with Balin to Moria._ He had a fleeting sense of his probable alternate fate, but couldn't quite understand which was better or even meant to be. For all their sacrifices and hopes, only Dwalin, Dori, Gloin, Bofur and Bombur remained with him and Fili in Erebor—only the seven of them resided in the Lonely Mountain. Five were known to be dead: Thorin, Bifur, Oin, Balin, and Ori.

But there was one completely unaccounted for. One just bat-crazy enough to go seeking the ancient city of _Tumunzahar._

* * *

The following night was as searingly painful and chaotic as any year. Fili had banished Nÿr just after midnight, gently urging An to take her away. Kili was too strong, lashed out too indiscriminately in his delirium. Fili might deflect a wild fist, but Nÿr and Kili would be devastated if she were hurt.

And the lass was pregnant, for Mahal's sake.

Better, Fili thought, if he and Kili got through this alone.

And Kili writhed in his pain, his face flushed with fever. He finally cried out, unable to hold back. He was shaking, his breathing too fast and too shallow, and he was barely conscious.

Fili, alarmed, pulled him into a tight embrace, tears on his face. "_Mahal_, Kili. Just hang on…just hang on for me…"

"Why?" Kili slurred, half pushing him away. "You'll jus' send me 'way…"

Fili gripped him tighter. "Don't be an idiot. Distance, Kili. That's our last hope for ending this. Distance from Erebor…distance from Mordor and spiders everything evil that's come after us. Try to get that in your head."

Kili's fevered brows drew together and he while he huddled miserably, he tried to bring his brother into focus.

Fili stayed firm. "I HATE that this keeps happening to you. I hate it, Kili! Every one else is done with the dark lord and his forces, but not you." He clenched his eyes shut and pressed his forehead to Kili's, as if he could send his reasoning into his brother's addled brain. "Sending you away is only thing we've never tried—do you understand?" his voice was quiet and hoarse. "Put distance between you and this place where the curse took you. Even if it means," his voice broke. "That I can't keep you with me. Do you understand this, Kee? It's not what I _want_ to do…" Fili's voice wavered and tears streamed down his cheeks. He swallowed. "It's the thing we _have_ to do. It's too hard to see you like this every year. It has to stop. Somehow, this has to end…" Fili's expression became more fierce. "And not the way you've tried in the past!"

They looked at each other, Fili's eyes wide and full of tears…Kili's narrowed in unspeakable pain, bleak and fevered. Over the years, there had just been those times when it looked like death was the only way out…the only way he could master his own fate. But Fili had never let him take that step. Always pulled him back…demanded he stay.

Kili's eyes squeezed shut as if denying everything, but his shoulders sagged. "Spent my whole life doing what you want," he mumbled, shaking his head.

"Yes," Fili said firmly. "And we're too old to change that now. You will go to Ered Luin, and I will join you there." Then Fili lowered his voice. "I promise you. We belong together. We'll die of old age, side by side."

"Twenty five years," Kili stuttered, the fever shaking him. "Before you can join me."

"One year, Kee. One year at a time." Fili pulled him close again, rubbing his arms. "This time next year your own little lad will be making his appearance…just try to keep me from being there. I'll stay the whole winter if I have to."

"You'll make _athelas_?" Kili was shivering with the fever now.

"If you need it. Maybe you won't."

"_Mahal,_ Fee…" Exhaustion was setting in.

Fili gritted his teeth. This was when it got worse…when Kili could no longer resist the pain and the fever rose…and he gave in to it. This was when the fever could take his soul and leave his body behind.

_Mahal, receive my brother if he arrives at your halls…welcome him home with open arms. But if it's all the same, I'd rather keep him here. We need him here in Middle Earth…I want him here…_

He looked at the clock. Three hours until sunrise. Three more hours of this…he held Kili tighter, touching foreheads and closing his eyes in determination to see it through.

At least the dragon was gone. At least his brother wasn't crazed by that evil malevolent spirit taunting and tormenting him in his head.

But Kili had endured it for so many years that the echo was still there…and he clenched and unclenched his fists in response to something unseen.

"No…" Kili mumbled, shaking his head, his whole body quivering with strain and fear. "Not me," he whispered. "Not my sword…"

Fili flinched, knowing the meaning of that nonsense. The dragon's last threat, Fili realized. The freshest recollection was the dragon's plan to use Kili as his swordwielder to kill dwarves inside Erebor.

"Dragon's gone, Kili," he said, kissing his brother's temple. "Don't listen to it. You're here with me and you're safe…"

One trembling hand reached up and Fili grabbed it, holding tight. "Please just hang on…" Fili said, unable to keep the emotion out of his voice.

In the last hours before dawn the fever intensified. Fili wrapped his arms around his brother, desperate to keep him from hurting himself as he struggled and thrashed…and then he just went limp and the tremors threatened to become convulsions.

Fili clenched his eyes shut. _Mahal, please just let the sun rise and my brother live…_

* * *

_****Hope you enjoyed** the chapter (if enjoy is the right word!)...thank you for reading! Also, huge thanks to beta readers **BlueRiverSteel**, **Cassandrala**, and **Jessie152**. Their edits/proofing help make the story better for YOU, so I'm declaring Beta Reader Appreciation Week! High fives…. _

_**As always, drop me a PM or a review** and let me know your thoughts…hearing from you really does keep me focused on drafting the next chapter! _

_**My Source for Khuzdul **is the Dwarrow Scholar's "Neo-Khuzdul Dictionaries for Lotro Dwarves." Google-able. _

_**Kili's Morgul wound:** if you are new to the story, I've not been recapping the events leading up to these...if you want the complete background of Kili's wound in this AU! and how it's effected him over the years, it's covered in Warhammers, which is story 4._

_**Music Note from the previous Ch 4**: apologies for leaving a music reference off the last chapter, it's there now. (Fear No Evil by Adrian von Ziegler!)_

_**Fan Art:** finally, if you want to see some of the amazing fan art that's inspired me, I have a Pinterest page where you can see some fevered Kili, Fili with Iri's kitten, and some happy brothers that put me in mind of the Eve of Eve party. Just google Summer Alden Pinterest...it's the Durin's Day board...and don't worry, Summer Alden is an alias. Not my real name..._

_**Mahal's Blessings... - Summer**  
**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

_Kili's thoughts felt slow and muffled. He was recalling the time when he'd nearly drowned in a river…feet tangled in swaying water grass…saved when the strong hand of his Uncle Thorin reached for him and pulled him into air and sunlight._

_ "Kili!" he had heard Thorin's voice through the splashing of water. "Mahal…just breathe, lad!"_

_He'd been reeling and dizzy as he lay limp on the river bank, coughing up water and straining to gulp air. Thorin's tight grip on his hand hadn't wavered. _

_"Just lay on your side," his deep voice murmured. "It will pass." _

_He'd waited, deeply humiliated, for a reprimand—for his uncle to cut loose with a string of expletives about his recklessness and foolhardy choices._

_But Thorin had been silent, just staying with him. "You saved the pony with all our gold aboard, Kili. Brave lad. You never lack courage. I'll give you that."_

_"Scary as hell," Kili had confessed in a hoarse voice. "I just did it anyway."_

_And then he'd seen Thorin's kind smile…the one reserved for family. "But that's what courage is, my lad."_

* * *

Several hours later Kili slowly brought his surroundings into focus, half-expecting to see the blue eyes of Thorin welcoming him to the halls of their fathers.

But instead he saw the closed eyes of his _nadad_, his brother. Fili stood near the bed and he had a wide bowl in his hands, chanting softly.

For Kili, the words merged with his fuzzy memory of a strange raven speaking in _khuzdul_ , the searing pain of burning cramps in his leg…the grip on his brother's hand the only thing connecting him to something sane while he could see nothing but the red haze of fever.

But the fever had broken. He recognized the wrung-out aching weariness.

_Sunrise…day after Durin's Day_, he realized with great relief. He let his eyes close, let himself lay exhausted.

Mahal, he wanted to never feel the pain and fire of the curse again, never hear himself screaming in agony. On the minus side, it would all be back, same time next year.

On the plus side, he was no longer tied to the safety of the Mountain. The dragon had been dredged from the lake and sent packing not three months back.

And what had Fili said to him? Put distance between him and the place where he'd been wounded? The only thing they hadn't tried…

He couldn't leave his brother.

Yet he had to. He understood that now.

"You're awake." Fili's hand touched Kili's.

"Mmm."

"Better?"

Kili nodded. "Just…wrung out. Brain feels itchy."

"You say that every year."

He looked up to see the hint of a smile in Fili's exhausted expression. And beside his brother, the perfect green eyes of someone else with a face strongly Durin in its shape and features.

"Nÿr," he gasped, reaching for the hand of his beautiful young lady wife.

"Hush," she whispered, letting her fingers curl around his. Kili heard the sound of someone wringing a cloth in the water, then felt the cloth on his forehead. _Athelas._ The heady scent of ale barrels and autumn woods filled the air.

"Stay still," Fili said in his husky voice. "I'll do the work."

He swallowed and nodded once, still feeling like he had one foot in the Halls of Mandos. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, and to top it off, he had the strength of mewling cub and the aching joints of decrepit elder.

"I think I finally believe you," he mumbled to his brother. "About distance…"

"Distance between you and the place where you took that arrow?" Fili asked quietly, using the cloth to dab Kili's face and neck. "Blue Mountains has that in its favor…"

Kili nodded. "Just so far away…"

"Six weeks. If you keep moving," Fili said. He used the cool cloth to wipe down Kili's arms and hands.

Kili let him, as if his brother's touch was cleansing the remnants of that cruel poison from his blood.

"When Thorin went he had no food and a few thousand refugees in tow," Fili went on. "I think we can get you there easier than that." Fili dunked the cloth in the water again, this time applying it to the old wound on his knee.

It felt bruised and swollen, as sore as if freshly injured.

"Do you know my grandmother was with him?" Nÿr said. He felt her brush the damp hair off his forehead.

"Your grandmother?" He touched her hand and urged her closer. She took the hint, settling on top of the covers beside him while Fili worked. He closed his eyes, comforted by her presence.

"Do you want me to tell you?" she asked.

"Hmmm." He didn't care what she talked about, really. He just liked the sound of her voice. She let him rest his head against her arm and he listened.

"Her name was Ása," Nÿr began. "I found a copy of her journal in the archives. On the day the dragon attacked Erebor, she was about as pregnant as I am now. She had been at a crafters' faire and fled with the others when the alarm came. She never saw her husband again."

"He was killed in the battle?" Fili asked.

"He must have been," Nÿr said. "She doesn't say it outright, but there's a brief mention of her sitting up all night for the next new moon…"

Kili understood. That was a long standing tradition for mourning those lost and unburied.

"So she travelled with Thorin?" Fili said, repositioning the damp cloth on Kili's knee and applying gentle pressure.

"She did," Nÿr answered. "Not that they ever met, I don't think. She gave birth to my mother somewhere in Dunland. Carried her all the way to Khelethur on her back."

Kili was silent. "Those poor souls walked for months in the wilderness…barely enough food."

Nÿr rubbed his hand. "Ered Luin took them in."

"That journey..." Kili said, rubbing his forehead. "Must have been so hard..."

"I think we can make your trip easier, Kee," Fili said, rinsing the damp cloth and wringing it out once more.

"Mahal willing…" Kili murmured, already half asleep again.

* * *

It was the next day when Bofur answered a summons to visit Kili in his apartments. He arrived to find his friend and Prince firmly tucked into a big chair in front of a roaring hearth fire with his feet up, and Nÿr hovering close enough to keep an eye on the lad. Two moments were all it took for Bofur to see that the morgul curse had run its horrible course once again.

"You're a lucky lad, you know," Bofur winked, slapping Kili gently on the shoulder and glancing at the lovely young healer lass. He knew about the morgul wound, of course. He'd been there when it happened, delivering that first handful of kingsfoil.

"She's spoiling me," Kili joked in return, a shy half-smile on his care-worn face.

Bofur regarded him a moment more. "Looks to me you could use the spoiling, to be honest. And thank Mahal for young lasses who love you," he said, accepting a heavy glass of warmed brandy from Nÿr. He thanked her with a gentle kiss on her cheek.

Kili's smiled softened. "Every single moment," he said, looking up at her. But instead of warmed brandy, she set a fresh cup of bellflower tea in his hands.

Nÿr settled Bofur in the chair next to Kili and left them. After a few minutes of small talk, Bofur cut to the chase.

"Your lad Skirfir seems to think you have questions for me," he said.

Kili sighed, then told him about the strange raven bringing a message from far away—from a Ravenspeaker not inside Erebor or Dale.

"Has to be Nori, Bofur," Kili said, his expression set.

Bofur felt the news like someone had smacked him on the back of his head. He felt his face heat in anger, then stood, tossing back the last of his brandy and pacing in front of the fire. _Nori._

"Tell me what happened with him." Kili's voice was quiet, but firm. "I remember there was a falling out, but that was the year we were rebuilding the eastern outpost. I was off with Dwalin fighting _Koloszh_ goblins."

"Aye. Well. We all knew about Nori fighting with his brother. With Dori, you know."

Kili nodded. Dori and Nori had cooperated well enough while part of the company, but they'd all known from the beginning that Nori's reasons for signing on with Thorin had more to do with the potential reward. Dori's reasons were all about gaining social standing by association with Thorin, their distant cousin from the other side of the sheets, so to speak.

"His share of the dragon treasure wasn't ever going to be enough wealth for Nori," Bofur said, slicing one hand through the air. "And he couldn't resist the urge to work up an underhanded deal." Bofur stopped and glared, then shook his head. "He came here hot to find Nain's Motherlode, that vein of Erebor mithril the old stories tell about. You know the one."

Kili nodded. "Supposed to go all the way to the thirteenth level and deeper."

Bofur nodded. "Like as not a tale that grew in the telling. Miners'll do that. Anyhow, Nori thought he found Nain's Motherlode in the old North Quarter's thirteenth level."

"Unlucky number," Kili murmured.

"Aye. And in the most treacherous part of the older mines. Fili had declared it off limits, but Nori snuck in…told people he actually found mithril there. Had pieces he was showing around."

Kili frowned. "Can't have been much or Fili would have been on it. We're always desperate for mithril."

"Aye. But I'm not sure anyone would have called the few bits Nori showed a _motherlode_—and you know what we find here is mountain mithril, not true Moria mithril." He shook his head. "But Nori went after it…then lost track of the thready little vein. So he hired a band of _my_ half-trained apprentices with visions of wealth and sent them in with that magnesium-based vaporizing explosive."

"That's banned inside Erebor," Kili said.

"Exactly. And for good reason." Bofur's usually friendly eyes were steel-hard suddenly. "We lost them all. Thirty-seven promising lads…we all told them there was no mithril vein." He shook his head.

"So thirty-seven lads lost," Kili summed up. "But not Nori."

Bofur grunted his disgust. "That one had conveniently been elsewhere the day they blasted rock. Damn fools triggered a cave-in. They paid the price with their lives."

"So Nori left Erebor."

"Dori was ready to pull him limb from limb." Bofur stood with hands on hips. "And Fili would've let him do it, and Aule's ass…I would have gutted him on sight if I'd seen him first." His eyes flashed and he shook his head. "But Nori pulled one of his vanishing acts and was scarce to Erebor before sunset."

Bofur turned a quick circle to show his frustration and shook his head. "Dwalin would have gone after him, but he wasn't here. You two were out there putting yourselves between the mountain and the goblins…and Mahal's hell, Nori killed more good dwarves here in one day than they did in a month." After a moment Bofur pulled out his pipe as if he might load it and smoke, but he did not. "I can't even guess where he is now," he waved the pipe to show that could be anywhere.

"We've heard rumors over the years," Kili revealed. "At one point he was north in the Grey Mountains. Then we had news of a skirmish with orcs on the slopes of Gundabad…that was maybe forty years back."

"He wouldn't…!" Bofur looked scandalized. The Gundabad orcs had been known to trade with questionable dwarves before they'd been decimated in the Great War. The few who remained bore watching.

"We don't think he stayed there," Kili said. "We think he moved west."

Silence. "You think he's back in the Blue Mountains," Bofur said finally.

Kili pointed to a book open on the large table left of the hearth. It was open to a particular page, with a leather strip marking the place. Bofur ambled over, angling a lamp so he could see.

Kili leaned his head back, still easily exhausted. "Four days ago a strange raven showed up with a message for me," he recapped. "The resident ravens wouldn't let him close…but when I finally got a chance to talk, he spoke only to me and only in _khuzdul_. A warning about a siege in a copper mine named _Tumunzahar._"

Bofur's finger traced a line of text in the old book. "Ancient home of the Firebeards…aye. _Tumunzahar_, if he really found it, had a wealth of copper…and where there's copper," he turned to face Kili, one eyebrow raised. "There's mithril."

Kili suddenly understood the connection. "If Nori truly found _Tumunzahar_," he asked quietly. "What kind of trouble has he stirred up if he sent _me _a raven with a warning?"

* * *

Three days later, Nÿr woke to an empty bed.

It was unsettling, at first. But it was also a profound relief. It meant that Kili was feeling well enough to be back at his usual routine. Still, she couldn't help quickly dressing to see where he was.

She discovered the Annex's doors open and her lord husband outside in only his trousers, slowly pacing himself through a series of moulinets with his battle sword, spinning his blade in a forward sequence, then reversing it, then repeating.

She relaxed. A soldier who returned himself to duty on his own was a blessing. But when Kili hitched his shoulder and stopped with a scowl on his somber face, she leapt into action.

She spoke to him as she approached, knowing better than to surprise a lad with a weapon in his hand.

"If you hold up for just a moment," she called softly. "I can help that…"

He turned his ear to her, his face solemn and he stood with his arms at rest. She put her hands on his shoulder blade, felt the firm muscles up to his shoulder, then took his arm and tested the movement of the joint. "There's still a little swelling here," she murmured, her fingers finding a certain spot where nerves and sinew met. She used her thumb to apply gentle pressure and saw his eyebrows raise as the tightness suddenly relaxed. Then the muscle tensed again on reflex…a fairly normal reaction.

"Just relax," she said. "And let me do all the work." She started over, applying pressure again and rotating the joint until the muscle relaxed without tensing.

That's when she noticed him looking at her with a silly smile and a raised eyebrow.

"What?"

"Say that again to me tonight and I'll be more than happy to let you show me how it's done…" His arm was around her waist, pulling her tight as he leaned close.

She suppressed a smile and rolled her eyes, wrapping her arms around him. "You, mister, are officially off my patient list."

He smiled, looking more carefree than he had in weeks. "Good. As long as I'm still on the husband list."

She kissed him slowly, then pulled back, framing his face with her hands. "That's a list of one, and consider yourself on the permanent roster."

* * *

The next three weeks turned out to be busy. Kili was suddenly deep into planning meetings with a variety of dwarves. Nÿr didn't know most of them beyond the basic introductions…and to be honest, didn't need to know. In her thinking, she would be ready and willing to go when the time came, just as she had as a healer trainee traveling for the Blue Mountains. In the meantime, the lads would fuss and argue, and she was happiest leaving them to it.

Thirty days after Durin's Day, she found herself meeting Lady An for lunch, accompanied by the shy and wide-eyed healer trainee Embur, and Erebor's cadet trainer, Fria. It had been decided that the three of them would be the only lady dwarves making the trip to Ered Luin, and they would need to be close partners. They quite luckily got along easily and had been busy making preparations. They'd already gathered their travelling clothes—since lassies dressed to match the lads when away from home, their boots and leathers would let them blend in with any company.

They'd also spent hours practicing with knives and bows. Fria made sure that the three of them could hold their own in a tangle, and they'd specifically worked on ways to best protect a pregnant princess, Mahal willing that they never had to put their skills to the test.

Finally, Lady An had coached them all in protocol and manners. She was determined that should the need arise, the Princess Nÿr would be beautifully accompanied by ladies with accomplished polite and courtly manners. Nÿr was charming and elegant, Embur was an easy study, and Fria…well, Fria could pass, as long as no one looked _too_ closely at her table manners.

"I hear the planning is nearly done," An said, serving them tea herself. Whatever arrangements Kili and his helpers were making, they were being kept very quiet. No one was taking chances even with trusted staff.

"I've had everything packed for a week," Nÿr confirmed. "Not that I'm taking more than two saddlebags."

"Why don't they just tell us which day we're leaving?" Embur asked, holding her cup and blowing on the tea. "Uncle Bofur just shakes his head at me and shuts his mouth when I ask."

Fria raised her eyebrows. "Now that's something," she joked, winking.

"It's just their way of keeping a lid on the plans," An said calmly. "We did the same thing when we travelled out to the Iron Hills last summer. Pack quietly, and if no one knows when you're leaving, no one can plan a problem."

Nÿr let the conversation go on to other things, but she considered An's reference to the trip she and Fili had taken to the Iron Hills. They'd blended themselves in with a wagon train of people on the annual _Hürmelgang,_ posing as just another family with a wagon and a cartload of ale.

She had envisioned she and Kili riding out with Skirfir and a line of ponies, much as they had when they'd crossed Mirkwood and met Eomer at the headwaters of the Anduin.

Now she wondered if they'd be travelling disguised as something far more mundane…goat herders or leather merchants.

"All I know is I'm certain to be assigned to healer duties," Nÿr said. "And I have a box of supplies ready." Then she shrugged. "I don't think we'll hear that we're leaving until the day we depart."

"Aye," Fria said. "And just as well. Wouldn't do to spend the first day on the trip nursing a sore head from a farewell night in the ale hall." She raised her teacup in a manner inappropriate for the Queen's table, yet they all laughed. The ale hall really was more her style.

That night Kili was back in their rooms earlier than usual. When Nÿr returned from checking on a young mother with a hand injury, she found the lights low, a fire in the hearth, and her husband towel-drying his hair.

He'd been in the bath and grinned at her mischievously.

"What is all this about?" she raised her eyebrows and considered his muscular outline with a quirky smile.

He dropped the towel when she stepped closer and he pulled her in for a happy kiss. When they broke apart, she realized he held something she couldn't see and pried open his hand to reveal her carved raven, the little stone piece that they sometimes used as a private invitation.

"What's the occasion for this?" She laughed, touching the black stone.

"A pleasant evening and a good night's sleep," he murmured. "And our last night in Erebor…"

* * *

****A/N: ** I always appreciate hearing from you, either in a PM or as a review. It really, really keeps me focused on drafting the next chapter, so huge thanks to all of you who've taken a moment to leave a message. It's a huge help and don't stop! ;D

For those of you worried about the plot thread with Levender...we shall see in Chapter 7!

The beta readers did a fabulous job of helping me with this chapter...so gigantic shout outs to **BlueRiverSteel**, **Cassandrala** (who both have very cool stories going...check them out!) and to **Jessie152,** who is just the most amazing and insightful reader.

**Music reference** while I was drafting the first scenes is **Chasing Cars/Snow Patrol**. It captures that half-awake post-fever blur pretty well for me!

**The Brothers Ri:** Are Ori, Dori, and Nori descendants of Durin and distant cousins of Thorin/Fili/Kili, et al? Tolkien said yes-its in a footnote under the Durin family tree in RoTK, Appendix A, Section III. They do not actually appear IN the family tree, just in the footnote. The "wrong side of the sheets" idea and Nori's thieving background are purely movie-verse concepts, though.

**Ravenspeakers:** it's my own speculation that ravens are only understood by those with the blood of Durin in their veins...and by Hobbits! In _The Hobbit_, the raven only speaks to Thorin, Balin, and Dain...and is understood by Bilbo. The other dwarves are said to have "heard" the raven...then again, all of them except Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur had Durin's blood... It remains to be seen whether the ravens are part of the upcoming film...!

**And a note about Mithril:** Moria Mithril is the really valuable, legendary stuff, but Mountain Mithril is still far more valuable than gold. If you want a reference, I think of Moria Mithril and Mountain Mithril as being as similar/different as platinum and palladium.

**Thanks for reading! Mahal's blessings... **

**-Summer**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

When they awoke early the next morning, Kili and Nÿr went about quickly gathering their gear, which had already been set out and ready to go, and prepared themselves to leave.

But as Nÿr exited the bath to dress in her traveling leathers, Kili stopped her with a conspiratorial grin and a shake of his head.

"This was our last night in Erebor, but we're not going any farther than Dale today," he said in a low voice. "It's the best way to make our departure completely unremarkable."

Nÿr raised her eyebrows.

"The presence of Levender here tells us that someone's watching," he said quietly. "We're going to make this look like we're just taking an ordinary jaunt out the gate…and there's a certain lass in the Guard who'll meet us in Dale and wear your clothes back this evening with Skirfir beside her."

"Ah," she said, understanding. "That's brilliant, actually."

"Thank you," he said, eyes sparkling.

"So, it's Friday," Nÿr's brain was whirling, trying to see all the aspects of his plan. "I take it I should dress like we're just heading for the Friday market?"

His grin was merry. "Exactly." He planted a quick kiss on her cheek and left her to dress in an everyday riding skirt and warm fur.

She was relieved, actually, to learn that she had at least one more night in a comfy bed and the promise of a bath again in the morning. She had no qualms about living rough when she traveled, but Mahal, she had become a spoiled lass and she did appreciate the comforts of a well-appointed bedchamber and bath.

She knew she would miss them before they made it all the way to Khelethur.

So dressed for a pleasant day in Dale, Nÿr added her travel leathers to her saddle bags and took one last look around their apartments, including the beautiful little study with the secret door that had been something of a gift from her intended.

She met Skirfir in the outer foyer. He had Kili's bag and accepted hers. With a nod, he excused himself to head for the stables ahead of them, but not before looking pointedly at the place where Kili stood near the cold hearth.

Nÿr understood, thanking Skirf with a touch on his arm as she turned to join her beloved. She heard the lad close the door behind him, leaving them alone.

She looked at Kili. He'd been full of energy all week, eager to go, smiling and laughing with everyone.

Now he stood in silence, turning a slow circle with a somber expression on his face.

Nÿr gazed back steadily when he looked at her, letting him pick the moment to speak.

"You know, I'll actually miss this place," he said quietly.

"Erebor? Of course you will."

"No, I mean these rooms…I think I was only truly happy here this past year." He looked around again, then back at her with a sad smile. "Do you remember when we woke up in that chair and Fili showed us this wall?" He gestured toward the sliding wall that could so cleverly turn the private study beyond into a secret room.

Nÿr smiled, a little embarrassed. "I do. Though I regret the circumstances," she admitted. She'd just come back after misguided intentions to run away back to the Blue Mountains.

Kili suppressed a smile and looked shy. "Do you know that was when I first knew how much I really loved you?" he murmured.

She looked at him, puzzled.

"I came back that day, petrified that you were going to tell me it was over. I remember watching the sunset," he reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers. "And thinking of everything I'd always thought I would do in my life…I wanted nothing more than to grab a pack and go with you…make for the Blue Mountains, stop in the Shire…"

He looked down at their hands. "But I could not." He shrugged. "And I knew I loved you because I could understand your side of it…and I could not bring myself to stop you if leaving here was what you wanted."

She didn't know what to say. Something she could do on a whim had, for so many years, been impossible for Kili. Until just a few months ago, he could not leave the protection of Erebor and live.

Nÿr bit her lip. "Kili…"

He smiled and huffed, turning away to look at the rooms again and run one hand across his forehead. "You know, I've been as good as dead here since the day I arrived…I might as well have let the dragon take me or thrown myself at Azog and died with Thorin. All I've done is live a life where I accomplished nothing," he looked back at her, his eyes flashing at the unfairness of it. "I wanted to go with Balin to Moria and I might have changed things there. And that should have been _me_ sitting in the Council of Elrond, joining the Fellowship, fighting Sauron on his territory…instead, it was Gimli…" He made a gesture of frustration.

He looked back at her, his expression resolved.

"But not anymore," he murmured. "This is my chance to do something and make a difference in Middle Earth. Fili," His gaze was steady now. "Has cared for me ever since the day I took that arrow outside Thranduil's halls…he needs to spend the next twenty five years with his own son and heir, to see Fjalar take the crown and lead Erebor. It is past time for me to carry my own weight, and if my brother wants to retire in peace in the Blue Mountains….then I mean to see it done."

Nÿr could only open her arms to him and hold him close. "And I will help you," she said.

"Can you forgive me?" he asked. "For dragging you across the countryside when you should be safe at home?"

She knew he felt guilty about making this move while she was pregnant. But she had a ready answer. "First of all, no one's dragging me anywhere," she laughed. "I'm going where you're going. And lasses travel at this stage of pregnancy all the time. It'll make me more fit and he'll be a stronger lad for it." She smiled at him, trying to make sure he understood. "Besides, my grandmother made the trip while pregnant, and under much harder conditions that we'll have."

He nodded. The ones who'd escaped the dragon all those years ago had left with nothing.

"Kili…" She framed his face with her hands and kissed him. "For luck...and a new adventure," she said with a smile. His arms came around her tight then, and they embraced for a long moment.

"Luck," he said, "And a hell of a lot of planning…!" He laughed, and Nÿr took it as the best of omens.

Kili was ready to embark on a new journey. And he was going to make an awesome King.

* * *

Kili, Prince of Erebor, rode at a sedate and unremarkable pace from the Lonely Mountain on a sharp early winter morning under a cloudless blue sky, feeling anything but lonely. He was full of optimism like he'd not been in years.

He glanced at Nÿr, his friend and lady wife, who was playing her part to perfection and chatting casually with Skirfir about the best market stalls for leather work. "I'm taking on Embur as an apprentice," she said to the lad. "And the lass needs proper belt pouches."

"I've always bought from the Tanner's Guild," Skirfir answered. "But if I could afford it, I'd look at Tate Stig's work."

"Is that booth with the pointy green roof?"

Kili listened with half an ear, scanning the sky for ravens. Sure as anything, he heard Corax quorking long before the shiny black corvid glided past.

Corax was about to be something of an experiment. Kili had been speaking to him all week, inviting him to come along on a ride, to bring friends, to bring hens. He and Fili were of a mind to see if Erebor Ravens could be persuaded to start a new flock in Khelethur. Kili had been telling the bird over and over about the beautiful valley in the mountains, about hazelnuts, and about swooping on the updrafts of granite cliffs. He'd made sure to add how much attention and admiration that he, Raven Prince, would share with a bird brave enough to follow.

Corax now flew ahead, followed by five…no, seven other ravens. All young, given their sizes. Kili shaded his eyes. At least three had the sleeker look of strong, young hens.

He was hailed by an off-duty archer captain then, walking along the road with several lads.

"Off to town for an ale?" Kili asked with a smile.

"Aye, my lord," the captain bowed with hand on heart.

Kili flipped him an extra coin. "Have a round and a shepherd's pie on me, lads," he said. They thanked him with gusto, and Kili grinned at Nÿr and shrugged when she looked round at him. These five, at least, would talk of seeing him on the road and help spread the rumor that Kili had made nothing more than a casual trip to town.

It took less than an hour to ride from the Gate of Erebor to the city walls of Dale. They passed mountain merchants, more off-duty guard, and a group of crusty smiths on the road. By the third bell past sunrise, they approached Dale's main gatehouse, well manned by armed, uniformed members of the City Militia.

"Stay close," Kili said to Skirfir, riding beside Nÿr as he guided his pony through the short tunnel of the Dale Gate. Once on the city streets, many men hailed Kili, quickly recognizing Erebor's prince, and more than one bowed to Nÿr, hand on heart.

They rode through town at an easy pace, unconcerned by the bustle, noise, and smells of men. Corax tracked them by flying between rooftops, and they ambled for Dale's Embassy Hill, though Kili remained on alert. He checked rooftops for hidden archers, looked for lurkers behind the smiling friendly crowds, and he kept his right hand free, ready for his sword.

"Just a little further," Kili murmured, riding straight for the doors of a tile-roofed villa's first floor stable. As they came closer, two hooded dwarves swung back the doors and let them pass. Once inside, more hooded dwarves greeted them with silent head nods, taking charge of their ponies.

"It's you!" he heard Nÿr murmur, relief in her voice at the sight of their cousin Dwalin, a dark green hood sliding off his smooth, tattooed head.

"Aye, lassie. Let me help you, here."

Kili suppressed the predictable twinge of mild jealousy as he watched Nÿr slide from her saddle into Dwalin's strong arms. He was their cousin and it was allowed, but Kili knew Dwalin flirted with her for both his own enjoyment and to tweak Kili's temper. Still, he pointedly raised an eyebrow at the old weaponsmaster.

"We're all in here, this way," Dwalin said, holding his arm out as he winked at Kili and stepped back so Nÿr could go to his side. Kili took the hand she offered and squeezed gently as they followed Dwalin. Skirfir came behind them with their bags.

Kili kept hold of Nÿr's hand and led her inside. He'd not brought her to this place before and was rather enjoying her wide-eyed surprise. Inside, the place was Erebor-opulent, with rich wood and gold fittings similar to those of the King's Reception Room.

"Fili calls this his Villa," he explained to her as they made their way through a wide wood-paneled foyer. "It's close to the royal quarters and he uses it when he wants to stay in Dale without attracting attention."

And then they were inside the main room and he watched her face as she realized who was here.

He heard her gasp at the smiling faces of Tuilind and Yanu, their elf friends. And then there was Bruilan, the man of Gondor who'd been her partner in crime during that risky venture into a goblin cave, and with him, another man introduced as Halden, one of the Dunedain…and here was Gimli, standing beside his father, and the three Bruns brothers along with Bofur, Bombur, Bendin, and Embur…and finally, Lady Lëofa of Rohan, though Bard himself was notably absent.

"I don't understand," Nÿr said, breathless. "Are all of you coming with us?"

Kili welcomed Bruilan's hand clasp of greeting as Lëofa laughed.

"My dearest Princess of Erebor," she grinned. "The disguise is that all of _you_ are here to be my escort. It seems I am required to petition my Lord Éomer in person before I may accept the honored proposal of my Lord, King Bard of Dale."

Nÿr's happy exclamation led to much female hugging and joyous laughter in a huddle that included Tuilind, Embur, and even Frea.

Kili rolled his eyes, but it was in jest. Secretly, fellows all expected this sort of reaction when mates were Chosen. How else did a lad know he was loved and appreciated?

"But let's be honest," Lëofa said to them in a quieter voice. "This journey is quite an elaborate cover for your trip south as well as a chance for me to return home with an escort. There are some family matters I need to resolve before I can come back here to stay."

"And I," Gimli added pointedly. "Am poaching shamelessly from my cousin's noble kingdom and luring a select group of highly skilled gemstone miners to the Glittering Caves." His smile was smug and proud.

Kili snorted.

"Just don't forget my percentage," Fili inserted, giving Gimli a stern eye as he welcomed Nÿr with a brotherly arm around her shoulder and a kiss on the cheek.

The guests, human, elf and dwarf, were served drink and morning buns then, and one by one took seats in the villa's great room. It was then that Kili steered Nÿr to a seat near Fili. She sat close to him, her hand on his arm. Fili leaned into her, murmuring something for her ears only.

Kili took in the sight of them. It was almost the last time he would see his brother for a year.

The impact of it sobered him, but it wasn't as if he and Fili had not spent time apart before. It was just that in the past, Fili had been the one to journey out and Kili the one to stay behind in Erebor.

He would miss his brother, yes. But it was not goodbye forever. It was just a temporary thing, and the presence of Corax and his little flock meant they would only be a raven's flight apart.

Though as he crossed Middle Earth, a raven's flight would turn from hours to days.

The little gathering was quieting and everyone was taking seats, looking at him expectantly.

Kili raised his glass of warm brandy and toasted those in attendance. "Thank you, good friends, family, and co-conspirators, for joining me here this fine morning."

Around the room, men, elves, and dwarves raised glasses.

"Tomorrow morning Nÿr and I leave for the Blue Mountains and a new chapter in our lives—and I'm grateful to my good cousin Gimli for the chance to travel together, at least for the first part of the journey."

Glasses were raised again. "Here's to the Sons of Durin and our expansion projects!" Gloin laughed, leading a loud uproar of happy approval. He referred, of course, to Gimli's opening of the Glittering Caves as well as Kili's acceptance of the Blue Mountains. They were on entirely different scales—the management of a gemstone mining operation vs. the security, health and welfare of a vast territory full of dwarves…but Kili hadn't spent the last eighty-odd years learning to protect Erebor without appreciating the value of a good smoke screen. Fact was, Lëofa and Gimli would be in the spotlight when they left tomorrow…allowing him, Nÿr and Bofur to casually embed themselves in the crowd and leave without it being general knowledge.

"I have just one piece of unfinished business before I go," Kili said. "And that's the question of what to do with the dwarf, Levender." Kili took a swig of his warm brandy. He was about to upset this group of friends and steeled himself.

"Bard sentenced Levender to 40 days in gaol for tampering with a Dale Courier horse, a crime to which Levender confessed. During his time in gaol, the Erebor Guard and the Bruns brothers," Kili nodded to the three Blue Mountains warriors who'd arrived shortly after Lev, "have conducted investigations."

Brunsmund snorted. "Aye. Along with our friend Redbane," he said, referring to the strong liqueur known for loosening dwarf tongues, illegal in Erebor but not in Dale.

"Maybe you can recap what you learned," Kili prompted, standing back.

Brunsmund stood. He was of an age with Dwalin, his once golden hair now snow white. His face was craggy and his lumpy nose had the look of one broken many times in battle. Here, Kili knew, was a true dwarf from the line of the Firebeards and cousin of Gunnvald, his father.

"The lad's name is truly Levender, son of Tormund, and I'm sorry to say that he is indeed a distant cousin." Brunsmund looked at his feet as if slightly ashamed of this. "He is known to us, but I have to say he is NOT," he emphasized. "A dwarf of Ered Luin. Never has been. His branch of Firebeards settled in the Emyn Uial a few generations back. This was before Smaug, even."

"Aye," said Halden. "The Dunedain know these dwarves. They mine zinc…a little bit of silver. Trade for furs." He shook his head. "They're a small group, not exceptionally prosperous."

Brunsmund nodded. "And they don't like change. I have to say that young Levender here doesn't honestly know much. He's working for someone else, that's clear, but they've kept him purposefully ignorant of their true intentions." He shook his head to show he was done.

"Thank you," Kili said, nodding to Brunsmund and Halden. "Fact is, Dale can't legally hold Levender here any longer. He's served his sentence and Bard admits they'll have to release him."

"No!"

Kili turned to see Skirfir, who would normally keep his peace in a meeting of those he considered his betters, standing up with an affronted look. "Iri could have been killed because of that dwarf," he said stubbornly.

Beside him, Fili stood, his face stern. "Thank you," he said pointedly, as if Skirf was the only one in the room with any sense. "I agree!"

The room was suddenly full of grumbling.

"Yes," Kili said loudly, prompting everyone to quiet. He put a calming hand on Skirf's shoulder.

"Yes—Skirfir is correct. But as Brunsmund points out, whoever really sent Levender here remains a mystery." He looked around the room. No one spoke. "Here's the thing—we can lock the lad up in Erebor and let him rot," he said, getting a round of murmured agreement. "Or we can use him to our benefit."

Fili looked confused. "Mahal's hell, Kili. What are you proposing?"

"Turn him loose and have him tracked," Kili said, looking his brother in the eye.

A roomful of stunned faces looked at them.

Tuilind the elf, cousin to the legendary Tauriel, stood. "And that is why Yanu and I are here," she said. "If it is the will of this group, Yanu and I will follow this traitor to his source. As elves, your ravens will speak with us and they can relay our progress."

"And if he needs killing," Yanu said, standing beside his beloved. "I would gladly deal that fate."

The room was silent.

It was Gimli who broke through everyone's shock with a rumbling chuckle. "Now that's a fair bit of turnabout. I like it!"

* * *

****Thanks much** for reading and please leave a note/PM! It's a huge help and keeps me working on this story. Huge round of applause for the fabulous beta readers for their help and moral support: **BlueRiverSteel**, **Cassandrala**, and **Jessie152**!

**Apologies** for the time between posts...I admit to being thoroughly sidetracked by Tuesday's digital release of the DoS ee on iTunes...with all the extras...squeeee! I was also being very careful with the setups in this chapter...but I think the next few will roll out more quickly now. Thanks for your patience!

If you haven't seen it, **Cassandrala** started a new spoofy fic called **"How to Wreck a Mary Sue."** Been ROFL'ing ever since! Give it look for a good giggle.

**Finally, the music reference** for Kili recalling the events from Ravenspeakers and Nÿr's almost-departure is Let Her Go/Passenger. And a final shout-out to **Scribe of Erebor** for poking me in the backside about cleaning up a chapter posting issue in _Ravenspeakers._ Fixed now! Thanks Scribe! ******


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

"They're letting him go now," Fili said, joining Kili on the rooftop balcony of the little villa in Dale. It was a clear, winter afternoon, the snow capped peak of the Mountain bright against a cloudless sky. The air had that brisk and sharp cold bite that said _snow on the heights, _but in another few weeks, that snow would blanket Dale as well.

On the nearby rooftop, three Erebor ravens pecked and fussed at the terra cotta tiles. One stopped every few moments to angle its eye at Kili.

The brothers stood still, frowning. They looked down at the maze of city streets below at a particular five-way intersection outside the Dale guard complex. A moment later, a door opened, a uniformed guard exited, and then they saw him. A single dwarf with no hood or helm, his reddish-gold hair loose, short on the sides but long over the top and down his back. He had only a short beard, scruffy and unbraided, and was dressed in plain brown leathers.

"That's Lev," Kili murmured.

Fili nodded.

The Dale guard reached for a pack and heavy bag, handed out by someone else. He thrust the gear at the dwarf and then pulled a small pouch from his belt, shaking it as if jingling coins. He slung it at the dwarf and then made a shooing motion, resting one fist on his hip and pointing to the east gate. Clearly the lad had been given his property and was being told to leave town and not return. The Dale guard stepped smartly back inside the door, pulling it shut with a bang.

Lev immediately upended the contents of the pouch into his hand, obviously counted up the coins, then returned them to the pouch and stashed it.

"Apparently his funds are accounted for," Fili commented.

Awkwardly, Lev juggled his pack and bag before getting the pack on and slinging the bag over one shoulder.

"Mahal," Kili huffed. "Bit of an oaf, that one. If he's armed, it's nothing bigger than a belt knife and he's not checking for it."

One of the ravens let out a long, soft quork, then launched itself to overfly the scene. The others alerted, then followed.

The dwarf looked around now, standing alone while men and carts flowed past him. As they watched, he turned east and walked slowly away as if his feet were heavy and his bones weary .

"Lad's not eager to be going," Fili commented.

"He's got to be deciding whether to return his masters or lose himself in the wilderness," Kili said.

"I don't suppose we'd be that lucky," Fili replied.

As they watched, two plain, slender elves, looking like ordinary visitors from the Woodland Realm, sauntered after the dwarf. The carried light gear, as if they were simply departing for home. And then, from a side alley, two scraggy Erebor miners emerged, loose limbed and apparently slightly drunk from a day of bar hopping in Dale. It was, of course, Bofur and his nephew Bendin, tailing along for the short term.

The brothers watched until even the ravens were out of sight.

"Well that's that," Fili said, standing back from the low wall of the balcony. "I wonder if he'll really leave or find a place to drown his sorrows. Lad's got to be dry as a bone."

Kili sighed. "He's also failed in his mission…he's got to be weighing his options."

Erebor's King was stern. "As long as he's headed home, he can live. But if he takes to the open road, I won't care what happens to him." Fili's eyes flashed and he headed inside. Clearly, if the lad met with an accident on the byway, Fili would have no regrets.

Kili stayed on the balcony for the better part of an hour, filling and lighting his pipe, watching the bustle of the town below. Fili would just as soon see someone who'd threatened his child dead and gone. But what happened to Lev now was up to Lev.

It was Corax who flew back to him, landing on the villa's balcony wall and bobbing his head for attention.

Kili held up an arm and the raven hopped over, eagerly accepting the head scratch that Kili offered.

"Elfin says west," Corax said. He referred to both Tuilind and Yanu as "elfin."

"Good bird," Kili crooned. "Thank you."

Corax preened. "They follow. They follow."

* * *

"What's this?" Nÿr had Kili's over-vest, checking the pockets before handing it off for a quick cleaning and oiling. She pulled a small, oval stone from an inner pocket.

It was a spell-stone.

Kili looked, then stepped over, his hand out.

She gave it to him.

"My mother gave this to me," he said, turning it over in his hands. "On the day I left Khelethur." His expression was somber, sad. "A promise to return to her."

Nÿr bit her lip. Of course, he never did.

"Balin went, after Thorin died. After we realized I couldn't leave. He said that he told her…that she understood." He was looking at the stone, running one finger tip over the first letter, the I. "We exchanged letters, of course. Right up until she passed..." He looked up and met Nÿr's concerned eyes. "She always meant to come here, to see me in the flesh." Then his face went somber and he turned the stone over again. "But she didn't. She was tougher than Thorin in a lot of ways, but she was one of the dragon-lost." He shook his head. "She couldn't have been older than Iri when she arrived in Khelethur. She never left it—she made it her home and feared to leave."

Nÿr understood. "That happens with the ones who survive such things. It's probably why she feared letting you and Fili leave..." She touched the stone in Kili's hand, symbol of a mother's hope.

He nodded. Obviously they had defied their mother in following Thorin, and Kili still carried some guilt about it.

"The least I can do is take this back," he said. "Balin told us they buried her in Ered Luin's Great Hall of Tombs. I'll take this to her there…maybe stone will speak to stone and she'll know I returned…"

On impulse, Nÿr took his hand with the promise stone and brought it to her lips, kissing it. "You'd best keep that close, then."

He smiled, then tucked it away in his shirt pocket. "I've managed to keep it for 80 odd years. I've no intention of losing it now," he grinned.

"Uncle!" It was Gunnar's voice from the rooms beyond and Kili turned in time to lift the running lad into his arms. "Ma says it's dinner time!"

"Can't miss that!" Kili laughed. He made a show of how heavy Gunz was and set the lad back on his feet. Gunz followed with a mock punch into his uncle's gut, and Kili doubled over, grabbing the lad and hooking a foot to sweep him off his feet.

Gunz growled, reaching to execute a headlock. Kili slipped out of the grip and lifted the lad over one shoulder.

"Sack of potatoes!" he crowed as he pinned the youngster's legs and Gunz flailed helplessly, laughing too hard to free himself. They headed down the hall to the stairway and Kili called out to Lady An. "An! Tell Bombur to get the big kettle! There's enough taters here for the whole crowd!"

Nÿr found herself laughing, loving the glimpse of uncle and nephew, heartened to see what kind of father her beloved was going to make. She imagined a day when their own raven-haired lad was carried over his shoulder and their laughter filled her own home.

More child-like squealing emanated from the downstairs dining hall and she shook her head. From the sounds of it, Hannar was coming to his brother's rescue.

"That's it, laddie," she heard Dwalin coaching. "Go for the knees…"

An hour later, dwarves and guests alike had finished a hearty dinner and Fili had refilled everyone's ale mugs many times over. Nÿr loved to see him hosting a party—he was never happier than when he was taking care of a cheerful crowd and making sure they had everything they needed. That was Fili in a nutshell, really. Ever the provider.

Bard had joined them for dinner, and he sat near Lëofa, clearly savoring his last evening with her. She would be making a very public departure in the morning and when she returned in one month's time, it would be for their wedding, likely with King Éomer at her side. Nÿr regretted that she'd miss the big event, but she would be getting ready, Mahal willing, to see her Lord Husband crowned King.

So many big steps ahead. She lifted her flagon and drained her cup of mild cider, feeling suddenly full of emotions.

She felt Fili's hand on her shoulder then.

"Let me refill that for you, sister," he said, smiling warmly and pouring from the cider jug without spilling a drop.

Someone tapped a table knife against a bowl, making an effective bell.

Lady An stood then, raising her ale high. "I hope you've enjoyed our little dinner gathering," she said, launching into a round of congratulations to Bard and Lëofa, salutations to Bruilan and Halden, and well wishes for Gimli, whose proud father sat beside him. She deftly acknowledged Bombur, Bofur, and the miners at his side, and she saluted Embur, Frea, the Bruns brothers, and of course, Skirfir.

Finally she raised her ale toward Kili and Nÿr. "I would be remiss if I didn't offer up a song for you," she said. Her voice was legend and she loved singing. Even more, Fili loved hearing her sing and sometimes played his fiddle along with her.

But not tonight. Tonight it was one of the household staff who brought forth a great harp and as everyone pushed back chairs and the tables were cleared, Lady An asked for the gaslamp light to be lowered so the room was bathed in soft light, dominated by the great fireplace. Dwarves and men alike lit pipes, leaned back, and prepared themselves for an honored treat.

The harpist played a gentle opening, and then An's clear, expressive voice filled the hall. Kili and Nÿr sat mesmerized, with Fili beside them, Iri in his lap. Neither had heard this song before, and they listened, wide eyed. Even Hannar, generally absorbed in his own world, looked up and harkened to his mother's voice.

The song spoke of falcons in Ered Luin's high ranges, the fair blue sky and summer sunsets, and of dreams of peace and plenty.

When she finished, even the menfolk sighed their approval and murmured at the beauty of her voice.

Kili was on his feet, going to her with both hands out, taking hers and planting a chaste kiss on her cheek.

"Mahal, An. That's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard," he said gently. "I insist on hearing you sing it again inside the great Hall of the Blue Sky itself," he said, referring to the cavernous interior of the Blue Mountains main settlement.

"Send me a raven when you wear that crown, brother," she said with a fond smile. "And you just might get your wish." She patted his cheek.

A fresh ale barrel was brought in, tapped, and new rounds passed to the guests. A good hour later, Fili stood and held out an open hand toward Skirfir and Bendin.

"You lads will be paying a visit to The Shire, if I'm not mistaken, though likely Brandy Hall instead of Bag End."

Kili smiled, making his way to Fili's side in front of the fireplace. "Aye," he said. "And there's a tradition we're bound to be asked about," he said. Bofur stood too, nodding in agreement as he slapped a firm hand on his nephew Bendin's back.

Dwalin and Gloin stood then, joining the lads. "I agree. I've been through the Shire seven times since that first trip with Thorin. They ask for this every time. So we'd best get you up to speed."

"On what?" Skirfir asked.

"Misty Mountains song," Fili said, nodding with a smug grin. "Goes like this…"

* * *

It was late when Fili rounded up his Lady Wife and his children and farewelled their guests, most of whom departed for lodgings elsewhere in town.

And Kili knew it was time. He and Nÿr would be leaving with Lëofa's escort before sunrise tomorrow…and he knew Fili would keep his children safely abed until well after they were gone.

There was no ale strong enough to soften the heart-wrenching act of saying goodbye to his brother's children. He waited until Nÿr had taken herself off to the bath before he went to his brother's suite.

Fili's kids. Kili had known all of them since the day they were born, watched An carry them in her pregnancies, held them in his arms, and watched Fili worry over them. He'd even embraced his role as stern-but-loving uncle, there to be tougher than their Da so that someone who loved them could drive home those lessons Fili couldn't bring himself to deliver.

Fjalar was well on his way—the lad was amazing and many other worthy dwarves would be teaching him now, helping him come into his own. Fili, especially, would be the lad's close mentor from here on. Had to be. And of course, Fjalar was still inside the Mountain with his fellow cadets, including Beka…couldn't have King and Heir both away at the same time.

They'd said their farewell, and Fjalar was one of the few who knew where Kili was headed. The three of them had discussed the basics. Fact was, Fili would need Fjalar to step into the ravenspeaking role Kili was vacating…the backup recipient of the most covert news, the kind only for the King's ears and not generally shared even with the other ravenspeakers.

Hannar and Iri were still so young that he'd never gone much past being a silly playmate with them. They would be fine, even though he regretted that he would miss seeing them grow.

But he had a closeness to Gunz that went beyond uncle and nephew. They were both second brothers, and they both cared very deeply about Fili. Gunz possessed an intellect and a thirst for learning that old Balin would have loved to see and the lad was wise beyond his years. Kili suddenly recalled the one time that Gandalf had met Gunnar.

Gunz had been a baby—not even sitting up on his own yet. But Gandalf had taken up the lad, holding him reverently in both hands. A soft, rather beatific expression had come over the old wizard's face.

"Ah," he had breathed. "Do you know this one has the soul of Frey?"

Kili recalled the shocked and puzzled look that had been on his brother's face.

"The protector of peace and contentment," Gandalf had said. Upon seeing Fili's confused expression, Gandalf had gently laughed. "Do not worry. Frey was a formidable swordwielder, enemy of outlaws, and known for his great bravery and wisdom." He had smiled and handed the wriggling bundle back to his Da, giving the touch of blessing to the lad's forehead. "He will bring you joy and happiness Fili, Mahal willing."

Kili would miss Gunz the most.

He took a deep breath and carefully schooled his expression to something unremarkable as he entered Fili's rooms. Wouldn't do to alarm the kids. The trick now was to say goodbye to them without tipping his hand about how long it would be before they saw each other again. It was a bittersweet gift, but it would let them remain innocent of what was really happening here.

"Say goodnight to your uncle," An urged them in her everyday sing-song voice. She busied herself gathering shawls and little coats as if this were any normal bedtime routine.

Hannar and Iri charged forward. Kili knelt, taking one in each arm as they threw themselves against him with happy smiles. His hands cupped their heads and he bent to kiss their brows, first Hannar, then Iri.

"'G'night!" Hannar said.

"Loves and kisses," Iri echoed, mangling the childhood phrase _hugs and kisses_.

"Love you both," he said, hearing an unusual huskiness in his voice, but they didn't notice. They dashed back to their mother and An shooed them off to their nursery, distracting them with finding their sleeping socks. Kili watched them go as if trying to commit their happy little selves to his permanent memory.

When he turned to Fili and Gunz, he felt a hollowness he hadn't expected.

Gunz came to him shyly (he was a little old for the exuberance of his younger siblings) and threw both arms around Kili's neck, holding tight.

The lad knew something was up. Kili's eyes met Fili's.

When Gunz pulled back, he looked stricken.

There was no denying the truth to him. Kili loved him too much.

"It might be awhile before I see you again," he said softly. "But I expect to." He looked Gunz in the eye, honoring him with level frankness and trying to convey his confidence. Then he left it at that, pulling the lad into a strong embrace once again. "Promise me you'll take care of your Da?"

Gunz's hold was tight, his head nodded.

"Always," Gunz answered. The lad was bravely holding back tears and Kili heard him sniff.

Kili closed his eyes tight and nodded. "Good lad." He pulled back, his thumb wiping away the single tear that rolled down Gunz's cheek. He turned the mood by grinning at him. "I expect to see your swordwork up to level five by this time next year," he said. "Then we'll find you a good short sword and start teaching you moulinets."

Gunz brightened, then nodded again. Finally, a hint of a smile through more welling tears.

Fili was there, then, with his hands on his young son's shoulders. Sounds of childish chaos emanated from the room beyond.

"Better go help your mother," Fili suggested quietly, and Gunz nodded, taking the chance to flee. He might be old enough to know something was up, but he was still too young to understand what to do with his feelings. Fili watched him go, and Kili knew he'd be keeping an eye on his second son.

Kili stood. When Fili turned back to him, he tried to shrug off his impending emotions. "It's not like I haven't been off on patrol for months before…"

Fili nodded in agreement. "Or so busy we hardly saw each other for weeks," he added with an awkward attempt at a nonchalant tilt of his head. "I'll see you in the morning," Fili slapped him on the shoulder. "Wouldn't miss it."

Kili nodded.

But when they looked at each other, there was no hiding from it. Arms went around each other, they held tight, and Kili knew he'd miss his brother like nothing else. The tears came without warning, and Kili found himself thinking of Gandalf once again. _Not all tears are an evil…_

"Mahal willing," Fili said, his voice choked. "I will be there with you in one year."

Kili nodded. One year. They would see each again in one year, when Kili would welcome his brother to his own kingdom, brother to brother, king to king. "One year," he repeated.

It was just that a lot could happen in one year…

* * *

****Yes! A second chapter so soon! **Thanks for reading**-**and let me know what you think. Certainly, I'm in a fluffy Durins mood! Next up: they will finally get going down the road.**  
**

**Song reference** for Lady An's offering is _Song for Ireland_ by Mary Black (imagine the words "I sang a song for Ered Luin.) Though I don't mean to lessen the impact of the song and it's import to the people of Ireland. Think of it as an homage… Google this and it should come up on YouTube: /watch?v=oRdDnpkR3AQ

And of course you all know the Misty Mountains song. I like to think that Dwalin would take up Thorin's lead in the song...or would it be Kili? Tell me which one you think...!

**As always, huge thanks** to the Beta Team: **BlueRiverSteel, Cassandrala**, and **Jessie152**.

**Mahal's Blessings...Summer****


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Kili, Prince of Erebor, would retain his title until the moment it changed, and it would change on the day he was crowned King of the Blue Mountains. But for that day to happen, he needed to get himself to Khelethur, to the great Hall of the Blue Sky hidden within a valley deep in Ered Luin, somewhere west of the Grey Havens.

"Of the seven dwarf kingdoms," Brunsmund was lecturing Skirfir, riding at Kili's side. "Three remain the strongholds of dwarven power and might in Middle Earth: The Iron Hills, Erebor, and the Blue Mountains. Iron Hills has more people, Erebor more wealth, and the Blue Mountains: more land and resources, though both Moria and Gundabad were both far more powerful and richer than all of us in ages past."

"But those are both abandoned," Skirfir said. "Over-run by orcs."

"Yes. Though perhaps at least one will be reclaimed in your lifetime, Mahal willing." Brunsmund nodded at Skirf and smiled.

Kili listened with only half an ear as Brunsmund continued the lesson about Blue Mountains history. He was in no mood for a history lesson, and he was profoundly grateful for Skirfir's presence and his polite patience with the venerable older dwarf.

But for a dwarf who'd been blessed this past year with love and friends and family, Kili found himself feeling utterly bereft, even though they rode as part of a large company of men and dwarves. Over one hundred strong, Lady Lëofa's escort was well armed. Any wandering orcs or Easterlings would have to think twice before taking them on.

Though that wouldn't stop an enemy bent on throwing his life away.

So Nÿr was travelling apart with the healers for the protection of anonymity. Kili would not see her for the next several days, keeping his own disguise of a simple dwarf archer of low rank. He'd eat with the archers, sleep with the archers…and keep his head down.

Not hard to do. He'd just left his brother behind. He swallowed hard against the empty well of sorrow and misery he carried in his heart.

This was no different, he told himself, than the times Fili had travelled out. Fili had gone to the Iron Hills, one time for several months. He'd travelled as far as Minas Tirith and had even returned to Rivendell.

And Kili had stayed home and watched him go.

It was childish, to be finally able to do the thing he'd sulked about for years and then sulk again.

_Shake it off, lad_, he told himself. But he felt the separation from his brother as if an empty chasm now lay between them…all air and no ability to step across. On the other side was the red-hot forgefire that was his brother and family, and he was a single cooling blade becoming less bright the farther it was carried from the forge.

_Silly way of thinking,_ Kili grumbled to himself. A forge heated blade cooled into hardened, formidable steel, ready to be a great weapon against evil.

Kili sighed, adjusting his grip on his pony's reins. If that was what he was, he didn't feel like it. Then he snorted. He wasn't the poetic one, anyway. That had been Ori.

He rubbed the collar of the plain shirt under his well worn leathers. On a leather cord next to his skin and over his heart hung a carved stone raven feather as long as Kili's ring finger, topped with a bead of Erebor stone. Somewhere under the mountain behind him, Fili wore its twin.

_He had slept close to Nÿr all night. It was an intimacy greater than making love or having playful fun in the bedchamber. It was primal—his need to wrap himself close to her, as if giving protection and comfort all at the same time. She had tucked herself against him, her certain love and acceptance providing a shield against all his greater fears and worries. She was a balm, a stronger soul who could cover him with peace. The healer to his warrior._

_The wake-up knock on their door had been expected, but it came too soon. They rose, helping each other dress in plain traveling gear, both prepared to spend the next few days apart, but neither of them really happy about it._

_When Frea arrived, she was there to collect Nÿr the master physician, not Nÿr, Princess of Erebor._

_Kili let her part in silence. He reached out and pushed raven-dark hair from her face, running his hand past her ear to cup her head, gently bringing her close for a kiss, a touch of foreheads, and a silent prayer to be safe._

_Her fingers had touched his jaw, she had leaned into him, and her clear green eyes had looked into his with a confidence that told him she would be fine._

_Of course she would. She was no stranger to traveling west. She'd done it before, under more dangerous conditions, even._

_But he stood in the doorway to their sleeping chamber, watching her go and worrying._

_And then his brother was there._

_"Fee…" There were no words, really. They embraced each other, holding tight. A million memories flooded Kili's brain, from fleeing to the safety of his brother's bed in a thunderstorm when he was just Hannar's age, to defending a wounded Fili on the slopes of Erebor during the great war, to decimating a pack of Easterlings and finding Fili shirtless and exhausted in the grasslands south of the lake._

_"I know this is hard," Fili said. "I must admit, I forgive you for sulking all those times I went traveling away." His hands framed Kili's face. "And left you behind," he said, his voice breaking. _

_They touched foreheads._

_Kili had been too full of swirling emotions to speak. He'd never liked seeing Fili leave. Now their roles were reversed…and he felt in his gut that being the one to go was not any easier._

_"__I apologize…" he'd murmured. "I didn't realize it's just as hard to be the one going..." _

_"__We'll see each other again soon enough."_

_"__One year," Kili said, though it felt like forever._

_And then Fili had something. "Gunz made these." He had two leather cords with carved raven feathers. Fili huffed with parental pride. "Lad has our mother's gift. Stone speller." He handed one to Kili. "We put them on each other and the spell begins."_

_"What spell? You know I don't like…" Kili's brows had come together._

_"You kept that promise stone all these years. Stone spells work for you," Fili had said, his tone firm._

_Kili had reconsidered. "What's it do?" He'd taken one of the leather cords and held up the carved raven feather, as long as a finger. _

_"Gunz made a reunion spell…the wearers will meet again. That's why there's two."_

_Kili had looked at the dangling feather and raised an eyebrow. "He's a good stone carver," he said._

_"And I made him add a protection spell."_

_Kili shifted his eyes from the feather to his brother._

_"Against metal magic. It's in the bead—it's a piece of Erebor stone. It's always protected you…this way you can carry a bit of it along." _

_Kili had understood then that his brother was making a ritual of their parting, just as their mother had done all those years ago. It made it easier, he conceded. Better than standing here and weeping, anyway._

_He held up the leather cord, ready to drape it over his brother's head. "I promise that we will be reunited, and may the blessing of Mahal and of Erebor's protection be upon you, my nadad." He placed the cord around Fili's neck and the long slender feather rested against his brother's heart._

_There._

_Fili looked at it, then back at him. He raised the leather cord in his hands and placed it over Kili's head._

_"I promise that we will be reunited. Mahal, who resides in our stone and blesses our people, keep my brother safe in the wilderness. Protect my nadadith from harm; surround him with a brother's love."_

_The twin raven feather rested over Kili's heart, the small green bead of Erebor stone with it._

_Fili reached out and placed his hand flat over it. "Be safe, Kili."_

_Kili had reached out and grabbed his brother with both hands, pulling him close and kissing his forehead, first warrior-hard, then again with a gentle love._

_He pulled back, tucking the smooth stone feather neatly beneath his shirt, well hidden by leathers._

_They stepped back now and nodded. On impulse, Kili grabbed his brother's hands. "Ukrâd, nadad."_

_Fili suppressed a smile at the long used farewell. "Sankundim, nadadith." He looked Kili in the eyes while schooling his own expression to somber resolve. "You were born to do this. Son of Durin, lad of Ered Luin..."_

_And then Fili had reached for the doorknob, opened the door, and stood back, like a warden opening the prison door for a convict whose time was served._

_Kili stared at the hallway beyond, then looked shyly at his feet._

_"Thank you," he had said, touching his brother's arm and then stepping through by himself._

_He took the wooden stairs down to the side exit, finding Skirfir in a lineup of dwarven archers and miners in the narrow road outside. He mounted one of the plain Dale ponies Skirfir had brought, and it was Gimli and Bofur who led them out to join the melee of Lady Lëofa's departure, complete with a royal sendoff from her intended, King Bard._

* * *

Just past mid-day the caravan stopped at the watering springs south of Esgaroth.

"What have you got there?" Kili asked, noticing an unfamiliar knife handle protruding from Skirfir's belt as they watered ponies and used hoof picks to check for stones.

"Old knife," Skirfir said, pulling the unusual blade from it's sheath and offering it to Kili, handle first.

Elven blade.

"Fjalar gave it to me," Skirf said. "Says it glows blue when goblins are near."

Kili frowned. "This is the one he picked up last year in that skirmish on the western slope?"

Skirfir nodded, bending to check the left rear hoof of Kili's black pony. "He swears it works. Do not," he rolled his eyes. "Ask me how he verified that."

Kili's somber expression broke into a slow smile, the first one in hours. Lads Fjalar's age were well known to get into trouble and take outrageous risks. Kili had no doubt there was a tale to be told here, but he didn't feel compelled to get that story out of Skirfir. There were limits, and the daily shenanigans of Fili's oldest son were no longer his concern.

With a grin, Kili flipped the heavy knife in his hand. It was well-balanced and it was sharp. He handed it back when Skirfir stood to move to the next pony.

"Best keep it safe, lad. Mahal forbid we should need it," he said, sobering. "If you get any goblin sign from it, I expect you to speak up."

Skirfir nodded, firmly re-sheathing it with a _snick_.

Together they finished tending ponies in keeping with their disguises as simple soldiers. As he worked, Kili scanned the line of larger horses at the watering spring, trying to keep his glances brief and nonchalant.

"She's with Fria, over by the second trough," Skirfir said after the fifth time Kili had managed to look around.

Kili's eyes went to the crowd of dwarves and men in that area, and then spotted his lady wife, tall for a dwarf and dressed in healer blue, long black braid down her back. She chatted and laughed with one of Lady Lëofa's horsewomen, and Fria, warrior and commander, stood nearby dressed as a simple healer's helper. Kili noted the skirt pouches that likely hid long knives and approved of Fria's watchful eyes.

He looked away, not wishing to draw attention. "Am I that obvious?" he murmured to Skirf.

Skirfir smiled. "Only to me, and only because I know you…"

Kili walked around his pony, pulled back the flap on his saddle bag and stowed the hoof pick. "Mahal's ass, Skirf," he said, looking bleakly at his young lieutenant. "Why is this so hard?"

Skirfir stowed his own hoof pick and leveled a frank look at his commander. "Because you love her."

Kili snorted. And because he did, he would protect her by keeping his distance. For now, anyway. Traveling separately, they easily blended in. If they rode together, it would be a certain giveaway.

They mounted up and headed out again. It was mid-afternoon and they were well south of the Lake when Corax caught up to them, swooping past and quorking loudly. At the edge of a small meadow, Kili pulled his pony to the side and dismounted as if taking a moment to recheck a hoof for stones. Skirfir pulled off with him as the rest of the caravan ambled past. He did a fair job of appearing bored while secretly being very much on guard as his prince crouched behind his pony and invited Corax to his arm.

"Elfins speak," Corax announced in a croaking voice.

"You have a message from Tuilind?" Kili asked softly.

"Elfins. Yes. Elfins follow. Caged one makes for stony mountain." Corax eyed him. "Elfins follow."

Kili frowned. Stony mountain? "Back to Erebor? Is the caged one back at Erebor?" Caged one, of course, was Corax's name for Levender.

Corax wagged his tail in a gesture Kili recognized as "no" in ravenspeak.

"Gunda. Stony mountain. Gunda-bad."

Kili sat back on his heels. _Gundabad. _Northern tip of the Misty Mountains, five days ride from Erebor, and still the home of the most wicked orcs in the north. Far fewer in number these days, but still dangerous.

He raised his head involuntary and looked back toward the Lonely Mountain.

"My brother..." he whispered._  
_

* * *

**Khuzdul words** credited to the Dwarrow Scholar's Online Neo-khuzdul dictionary (google it!)

___Ukrâd, nadad = great heart (I love you greatly) big brother.  
_

_____Sankundim, nadadith = perfect travel (travel safely) little brother.  
_

(This is the reverse of their greetings back in _Kinseekers_, when Kili stayed and Fili departed.)___  
_

* * *

**Huge thanks once again** to the fabulous beta-reader team: **BlueRiverSteel, Cassandrala**, and **Jessie152**.

**And extra thanks** to you for reading and for the kind messages and PMs...I do appreciate even the short messages-they keep me focused on getting the chapter out! Hope you are all able to enjoy the DoS ee when it comes out next week! And I'm soooo mixed about seeing BOFA next month...(eeek!) Stocking up on tissue even as we speak...

**Mahal's Blessings**...and hope you enjoy!

On a completely different note, it's **National Novel Writing Month**! If you are doing NaNo, feel free to Buddy me (SummerAlden on the NaNo site!) And if you're interested, I'm posting my original work, titled Omega Flight (a science fiction, non-fanfic), on Tablo...feel free to follow me. The link-remove the spaces and google: ta blo. io/ summer ald/


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Some fluff **to hopefully soothe your nerves after last week's trailer! Music reference for the "tent scene" is Cherry Wine/Hozier **watch?v=t5L_ZL9m15Q**

* * *

**Chapter 10**

Four days later at twilight, Prince Kili stood knee-deep in winter-dry bracken on the edge of Lady Lëofa's camp, six days out from Erebor, on the western end of the great road through Mirkwood.

He launched a sleek young raven from his arm and she arrowed off with a new message. Watching her fly upwards, Kili saw her clear the treetops and head north.

Ravens were good allies and essential to Erebor's protection…but they had limits and tonight he was feeling the inadequacy. He'd gotten messages from five different ravens this evening, but what they told him generated more questions than answers.

"Something's happened?" Skirfir asked, his bow at the ready as he scanned the copse and the woods beyond.

"Orcs killed Lev," Kili said. "He was in the foothills below Gundabad."

Skirfir glowered. "Killed on sight just for being a dwarf, or killed because he failed his task?"

Kili thrust his jaw forward and narrowed his eyes in the direction the little hen had flown. "That's exactly the question, lad. Ravens can tell me _what_ happened…they just can't tell me _why_." He nodded his approval at Skirfir. They often had these exchanges, which in his mind were part of the lad's training: ask questions, think about everything that might be out there.

"What about Lord Dwalin?" Dwalin had, of course, returned with Fili to Erebor.

"Dwalin's out on the northern edge of Mirkwood," Kili murmured. "With an Erebor battalion and a contingent of Dale cavalry. They're holding position until they see what the orcs are up to. Ravens tell us there aren't many left around Gundabad...but even a few are trouble."

"That leaves Tuilind and Yanu…" Skirfir pointed out.

"On their way down the Anduin," Kili said quietly. "They should catch up to us tomorrow, maybe." He sighed heavily, feeling tired. "Then we'll hear more about those orcs."

Skirfir's expression went stony. "They're not leading them straight to us, are they?"

Kili suppressed a smile at Skirf's skeptical nature when it came to elves. "We have to _trust_ they're smarter than that." Of course, even he heard his own emphasis on the word trust. "They know about _Commander's Intent_," he said, reminding his protégé of the precept Thorin had trained into him and that he and Fili trained into Erebor's cadets: the soldier is free to act in the field in order to meet the commander's intent for the operation. It was the opposite of the traditional solider who was trained to only follow orders.

Kili preferred to work with fighters who could think.

But Skirfir was right…the essential element was trust.

Kili patted Skirf's shoulder and together they walked back to the caravan's large camp—a scattered group of campfires tucked into the forest, each circled by tents and bedrolls. Lëofa and her escort had tents; most of the lads, Kili and Skirfir included, just slept under the stars.

Kili's thoughts went to Nÿr again. She was with Fria and Embur, safely stationed in the Healer's Tents, set up some distance from Lëofa's. It meant Nÿr slept well away from any chance attack aimed at Dale's future Queen.

It also meant that Bofur and two dozen hardy mining lads could camp alongside, giving young Bendin the chance to watch over his young sister Embur, and old Bofur the chance to play oblivious miner/covert warrior in defense of Lady Nÿr, the healer lass destined to be a Queen in her own right.

Still, Kili was surprised at how much he missed his Lady Wife. He wasn't sleeping well…and his bleary brain was starting to slow him down.

"Let me take the first watch," Skirfir said as they made it back to their campfire.

Kili wished he wasn't so tired. "Yes…" he agreed with a sigh. "All right. Wake me up when you come back." He went to join the other archer lads around their campfire. Skirfir seemed to have pre-planned things, as the lads simply nodded to him and let him go to his bedroll, spread out under a low-hanging cedar. He bypassed the wash-up bucket, vaguely recalling he'd banged his head on a branch earlier. He knew the scrape should be cleaned...but the bedroll beckoned.

So he set his bow and sword within reach and stretched out on his back…something that felt way too good as he felt his spine creak into alignment…and he closed his eyes, listening to the camp sounds in the woods around them. A few owls hooted in the distance and late season crickets chirped in a slow rhythm, their energy nearly spent. From a distant campfire came the echo of someone playing a familiar, melancholy tune on a flute…that one about home and loved ones left behind.

It lulled Kili, and if he didn't fully sleep, at least he dozed.

Funny, he mused, how he'd lived 150-odd years without even knowing his lady wife…and now, married less than a year, he could hardly fathom being without her.

Fili, he figured, was safely inside Erebor where he belonged.

His beloved Nÿr, on the other hand, was not, and it was his own fault. He genuinely wanted to protect her by keeping her anonymous in this caravan, but at the moment he wanted nothing more than for her to be here, at his side. Instead, she was all the way across camp by herself, and he felt her absence like a hollow in his heart.

* * *

Skirfir only partly regretted waking his Commander, but Kili predictably sat up when Skirfir dumped saddle bags on the bedroll next to him.

"…Time is it?" Kili mumbled, peering toward the campfire, still roaring brightly. Just enough firelight filtered in to show him looking alert.

"About midnight," Skirfir answered, crouching down to sort the gear in his bag. "All's well. Patrols are reporting no one around us for miles. Not even Woodland Elves." He smiled. "Bofur's got a party going, and the lads are all taking turns singing to Lëofa's handmaiden."

Indeed, they could both hear the sounds of music and chatter from one of the campfires in the distance. Kili nodded and his shoulders relaxed. "Bofur," he snorted.

"Someone asked me to give this to you." Skirfir held out his closed fist.

Kili raised his eyebrows and accepted Skirf's offering: the little carved dragonstone raven that belonged to Nÿr.

"My Lady tells me," Skirfir said. "That while she is enjoying Bofur's party, she would greatly prefer a moment of your time in her tent."

Kili got to his feet. "Have you eaten?" he asked.

"Yes," Skirf answered.

"Good." With that, he ducked out from under the low hanging cedar branches and strode for the pathway between campfires.

Skirfir smiled. His Lady Nÿr had the right of it. She'd asked him how Kili was sleeping and Skirf had been honest. _Not well._

Nÿr had not seemed surprised. "Bring him to my tent. Bofur's providing the distraction." She'd handed over the raven token and then turned to hand a funny-smelling brew to a lad with saddle sores.

Just like that.

Skirfir was caught between worrying that Kili would object and the realization that his Lady didn't doubt his ability to produce her Lord Husband on demand. For the right reasons, he figured. Kili, obviously, wasn't about to decline the summons.

Skirfir grabbed his bow and sword and followed his commander. Erebor's King had made him Kili's swordbrother, and that meant watching Kili's back.

Kili had his own weapons and was halfway down the path toward the party when Skirf caught up. Together, they rounded the outskirts of Bofur's crowded fireside gathering, ducking behind trees until they reached the sheltered back door of the healer's tent.

Kili made a quiet two-note whistle, the tent flap moved, and then his Lord Commander was inside.

Skirfir moved a respectable distance away, finding a fallen log on which to take up post as guard. He scanned the dark undergrowth, alert for threats in the woods around the tent. If his Prince needed private time, he meant to be sure no one interrupted it, friend or foe.

But to be honest, he was quite baffled by the point of such trysts. Generally too young and untested for lasses to consider him as anything but a friend, Skirfir was entirely unclear on the actual lad and lassie basics. He accepted that his Lord Prince was eager to visit his Lady Wife and took pride in their love for each other. But Skirf admittedly drew a blank when it came to the details. Kissing, in his mind, was entirely over-rated, having done a bit of that at the last Durin's Day parties. So what exactly was going on between his Lord and Lady was a complete and total awkward mystery.

But Mahal, it wouldn't keep him from his duty.

* * *

With the quiet music and low-key celebration of Bofur's campfire in the background, Kili slowly ducked into the healer's tent unseen and discovered Nÿr alone inside. She sat with an open robe, a damp cloth in her hand, and a bucket of steaming water. He could smell the clean mineral salts, see her silhouette against the tent canvas…hear the trickle of water from her cloth against the muted noodling of a guitar player and the crackling campfire beyond.

She turned toward him slowly, her expression serene and loving, trusting that no one else but him would be allowed to find her waiting here.

Kili took a few steps, then sank to his knees next to her. Both her hands came up to frame his face.

Their eyes met and they savored a moment to see how the other was doing. _All right, bit lonely…miss you terribly._

She noticed the scrape and smudge of dirt on his brow and gently brought the damp cloth to his face, carefully cleaning the shallow wound.

"Don't fuss over me," he slurred, his voice husky.

"Hush, you're mine to fuss at," she said, her voice quiet, teasing, lilting. "This is messy, but it's fine. Just needs cleaning…" She raised an eyebrow as if challenging him to seriously object.

No. He didn't really want to and she knew it. He breathed in her presence and leaned into her touch: his lady wife…healer, lover, and beautiful and strong in a way that spoke to his very core. Daughter of Durin, far apart in lineage but close in heart, rare and sweet and as strong in spirit as Durin himself. There was no other for him, he knew that with a certainty like nothing else.

He closed his eyes, let her smear soothing salve on his brow and cup his jaw. He slid his hand gently inside her open robe, the touch of her impossibly smooth skin a balm in itself.

"How are you?" he murmured.

"I'm perfectly fine." She guided his hand to the spot over their unborn child. "And this little lad's fine, too. I think he likes pony rides," she smiled. "I've felt him flutter a few times…like he's kicking to go faster."

Kili blinked at this news, then looked down to the place where his hand gently rubbed the little baby bump. "I see we'll need pony lessons," Kili said to the slightly thicker part of Nÿr's stomach. "And go easy on your mum." His smile was shy, and then he pulled her closer, pressing his lips to her forehead.

Her arms came around his shoulders. "I miss you," she whispered, her lips very gentle against his.

It froze his brain and he let her draw him closer.

_Mahal_, he missed her, too.

* * *

Skirfir sat at his post, resting his bow on one knee and scowling in the direction of anything that made noise. He turned sharply, arrow at the ready, when Fria approached.

She gave a low bark of highly amused laughter. "Take it easy, lad. Let me guess...our newlyweds have discovered how to get some time alone."

Skirfir stared, embarrassed at her blatant acknowledgement of the lovers' tryst.

Fria's eyes went wide. "Oh, laddie. You are so completely flummoxed!"

Her grin made his face heat. Had Fria been drinking Bofur's whiskey?

"I'd see to your education myself, lad," she elbowed him. "But your Lord Prince would have my hide for it." She winked.

Skirfir's brain couldn't form a reply: he hadn't felt so wrong-footed in a conversation in a long while.

Fria slapped his arm. "Guard duty," she snorted. "I'll come back when the watch shift changes." She winked. "Then you can go get some sleep yourself."

* * *

Nÿr let herself revel in the touch and warmth of her beloved's attentions. He was so serious and reverent tonight. As she expected, she sensed how unsettled he was. He was miles from Erebor stone, far away from his brother, and his long years of combat meant he slipped into being constantly on alert when he was outside in the open air. The trick to helping him stand down wasn't to address it head on, though. Her Kili had to be lured into de-stressing and lucky for him, she was the lass to do it.

It helped that she loved and welcomed his attentions, wanted to let him take the lead, and enjoyed letting him see how very aroused she felt at his touch, how much she truly loved him with all her heart.

His release caught him more strongly than usual; she felt it in the trembling of his limbs, saw it in his smoldering expression in the shadows. She let him catch his breath, feeling his heartbeat slow, and nibbling slowly on his earlobe when he bent close. After a few moments she eased him beside her, her hands on his strong shoulders, silently urging him to rest his head and lay still.

His hand found hers, fingers slowly threading together. He kissed her, long and slow.

"Nÿr," he whispered.

She hushed him with gentle fingers on his lower lip. _No words, sweetheart. Just love._

Nestled against him, she let their closeness do the rest of the work… _Rest, Kili. Let yourself sleep…_ And a few minutes later she felt his breathing deepen and his muscles go limp.

When she heard him snore, she smiled, pulled the blanket closer around his shoulders, and closed her own eyes.

* * *

Two days later Kili woke in the pre-dawn hours to a hasty message about _elves_.

This time their camp dotted the banks of the upper Anduin in much the same place where they'd met Éomer last summer. But instead of warm summer weather and green grasses, the Vale of Anduin in early winter sported frosty rime, layers of ghostly mist, and an early morning cold that could freeze a bucket of water solid.

Not that dwarves were all that sensitive to a still, dry cold.

"Tuilind and Yanu," Skirfir whispered, his eyes wide in the dim firelight. "And some important-looking ones…Halden knows them."

Kili was up in an instant, though he was not surprised. They were right on time, and he was heartened that this part of the carefully constructed plan was on schedule.

He took a moment to wash his face and re-tie his prince's tail. Skirfir played groom and checked the set of his jacket and buckles. Then Kili armed himself with sword and bow as he strode for the clearing near the main fire, Skirfir at his side. A group of men and elves stood there, warming themselves and talking in low voices.

Tuilind and Yanu saw him coming and immediately bowed deeply, hands on hearts. Kili answered with his hand on heart, nodding to them.

In the silence, he saw the newcomers: two tall, dark-haired elves, obviously seasoned warriors, nearly alike in their looks and bearing. They were also better muscled and more solid that their Silvan counterparts.

"My Prince of Erebor," Halden of the Dunedain bowed very formally to him. "May I introduce the Sons of Elrond: my Lords Elladan and Elrohir."

Kili looked at them with a steady eye and stood straight. "Kili," he introduced himself, then bowed deeply and rose. "At your service." Skirfir stood two paces back, in the head-bowed position of assistant.

The Sons of Elrond bowed politely in return, hands on hearts.

"Well met, _mellon_. Our sister and our Lord Aragorn commend you to us with great respect."

"Thank you for coming," Kili said, hand on heart.

Elladan smiled at him. "Aragorn wishes you delivered to the Blue Mountains as soon as we can get you there. We have promised to get you as far as The Shire."

Beside him, Elrohir nodded. "Reports of goblins blockading mining settlements in the Blue Mountains is on the increase," he said. "More remnants of Saruman's forces that scattered to the west."

Kili was instantly concerned. "I've had a similar report from the ravens. Ered Luin has a well-equipped militia. Why aren't they engaging the enemy?"

"Ered Luin's three remaining councilors are aged and unwilling to increase hostilities," Elladan said, his expression sad. He shook his head. "This is a new threat to them; they cannot come to agreement on how to act."

"Except," Halden added. "To crown you King. Aragorn has every confidence that Thorin's sister-son," he nodded, "can lead the Blue Mountains army and rout the interlopers."

Kili nodded. "That I can."

"Can we be away before sunrise?" Elrohir asked. "We will travel fast and take you on Elven roads. We can make Rivendell by sunset in three days if we get moving. We will carry you on horseback. It is not a road for ponies. How many of you?"

"Ten dwarves," Kili said. "Plus the men and elves," he nodded to Bruilan, Halden, Tuilind, and Yanu. "Can you take us all?"

The elves nodded and the small group separated to see to their respective preparations. They had about one hour to get themselves packed and ready to mount up, Kili figured.

He sent Skirfir to quietly awaken Bofur, Bendin, and the Bruns brothers. Then he bee-lined for the healer's tent.

"Nÿr!" He barged in, surprising not only his lady wife, but Embur and Fria, who were bedded down in the tent with her.

"What's wrong?" Nÿr sat up, clutching a blanket to her chest. Fria had her sword in hand, heedless of her dress. Embur just ducked under the covers at the sight of a _lad_ inside their tent. (And the _prince_ no less!)

He smiled. "Pack up. We leave in one hour, ladies." He turned to go. "Saddlebags only. You'll be riding pillion on horseback."

"Kili!" Nÿr hissed, clearly unsatisfied with that order.

He turned back. She scrambled out from under her blankets, dressed in a loose warm shirt and leggings. Her thick socks were bunched charmingly around her ankles. Unable to resist, he offered an open arm and scooped her to his side.

"Hush," he said. "We need to leave without waking the entire camp." He kissed her hair and smiled, hoping to reassure her. "And from here on, you and I travel together."

* * *

****Thank YOU for reading! ** As always, please drop a note or PM and let me know you 1) are reading and 2) what you thought. It makes a difference and helps me prioritize writing with all the other work I have on deck.

So sorry for the long delay for this chapter. I was off at **one last** tech conference for the year and this one involved a lot of commute traffic...which I managed for years but now have ZERO tolerance for. (Currently live close enough to work NOT to commute, Mahal be blessed.) The rest of my month is pretty clear for writing tho, so hope to charge right along. GIGANTIC thanks to the INTERCONTINENTAL beta team, who really did above-and-beyond beta reading yesterday: kudos to **BlueRiverSteel, Cassandrala, **and** Jessie152!****


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Fili, King of Erebor, pulled the stone feather talisman from under his shirt and thought, not for the last time, about his brother. His _nadadith_. Kili should be crossing the Misty Mountains... Fili looked down at the carved stone in his hand, the design identical to the one his brother wore.

Then he noticed how battle-scarred his hand looked. _So many years…so many battles._ It was a miracle they'd both survived.

He pressed his lips together, unable to think any further along that line. That way lay despair.

After a moment he looked back at the paperwork on his desk, let go of the talisman and reached for his quill. He went back to doing what he always did these days when he was upset by anything having to do with Kili: immersing himself in the work of running Erebor. The list of things needing his attention was always longer than he could hope to complete in a day, and a brain juggling multiple administrative problems was a brain that couldn't wallow in worry or regret.

"Da?"

He looked up from making notes about a council matter to see his two oldest sons in the doorway. The Chamberlain stood by in silence.

"Fjalar," Fili smiled and poked the pen into the inkpot, leaving it there. "Gunz. Come in. Just reviewing some trade agreement language."

The young brothers made proper hand-on-heart head bows to the chamberlain and stepped inside the King's Study. Fjalar was dressed with precision in his maroon-and-tan cadet uniform. Gunz wore a page's tabard, just a bit too big for him and slightly askew. _So young…_ Fili observed. _Just like Kili and me once upon a time…  
_  
Fjalar carried a plain box under one arm. Fili recognized it as one of his son's bird boxes, used for enforcing rest on over-taxed ravens.

"Who's in the box?" Fili asked.

Fjalar walked forward and set the box on the side table, glancing over his shoulder to be sure the chamber doors were closed. Gunz followed.

"Kaia," Fjalar said, opening the box and pulling out a very bedraggled hen.

Fili stood, instantly concerned, as Fjalar held up the raven. She looked limp and glassy-eyed, and a moment later started panting—a sure sign of a stressed bird.

"What's happened to her?" Fili murmured, noting that several feathers stood out at awkward angles and her wings looked frayed.

"She's been in some kind of fight," Fjalar turned her so Fili could see a scabbed foot and a bloody patch on her breast. "She's just in from Mirkwood…and she's not making much sense. I thought maybe you could get more out of her."

Gunz stood by, his expression worried.

Fili touched Gunz's shoulder to reassure him, then reached for the panting raven and gently settled her in the crook of one arm. Clearly, something had happened. He crooned to Kaia and stroked the side of her head. Predictably, she leaned into it a bit and after a moment made a long, low cluck.

"Easy, now," he murmured. "Good bird." He kept scratching, feeling her hunker down on his arm as if nesting.

Fjalar stood with hands on his hips, his expression tight with worry. Next to him, Gunz fidgeted, eyes wide.

"Who sent you with a message, Kaia?" Fili coaxed. "Can you tell me that? What an amazing bird you are, to fly so far."

"Prince," Kaia panted. "raven-prince, raven-prince..."

"Raven Prince? Very good. Thank you, Kaia." Fili kept scratching. It took effort to stay calm and suppress a rising sense of panic. _Kili…what's happened to my brother?  
_  
But he knew better than to rush an exhausted raven. He was patient, and eventually she spoke in small mutters and repeated clucks of _raven-prince, raven-prince_, and Fili pieced together the little hen's journey.

Slowly, soothing her as he went, Fili stepped to the table map where he'd been pinning Kili's progress. He added a pin to the Old Ford across the Anduin, marking the place where Kaia had last seen his brother.

"She has a message from Kili when he was crossing the Anduin," Fili said to Fjalar and Gunz. "But it's nothing more than an update. He met up with his elven escorts, as planned. They've split away from Lëofa's caravan, and forded the Anduin," he nodded to the pin. "At the time he talked to her, it was just after sunrise and they were headed into the Misty Mountains, making for Rivendell." He paused, considering the condition of the bird tucked against him. "She was flying with another raven, but she doesn't say which one. At some point later in the same day they were set upon by a flock of crows and she only just got away from them." Fili frowned. "She's too distressed to tell me much more. Have any other ravens come in from Mirkwood?"

Fjalar shook his head. "Not that I know. I'll ask the Ravenspeakers to keep an eye."

Fili nodded. Both of them knew that the other bird might not have survived.

Fjalar looked puzzled. "What's a _crebain_?" he asked. "When she first landed on my arm this morning, she kept repeating it."

Fili looked up sharply. "That's not good." He nodded toward the bookcase. "There—pull out Sigurd's Gazeteer."

Gunz sprang into action, going to the shelf and sliding the over-sized leather-bound tome off its shelf. He brought it to the table and opened it to the elvish C.

"Good lad," Fili said, approving Gunz's ability to identify the Sindarin word and look in the elvish section. Together, Fjalar and Gunz both put fingers on the margin, tracing the words and stopping at an entry.

"Servants of Saruman," Fjalar concluded, his voice hard. Gunz curled his lip.

"Saruman's dead," Fili replied.

The three of them looked at each other.

"What's this mean, then?" Fjalar asked, his brow furrowed.

Fili considered. "_Crebain_ are like crows but travel in very large, fierce flocks. We were hounded by them once in The Coldfells, years ago. They're like a flying warg pack..."

Gunz pointed to the Coldfells on the western side of the Misty Mountains. Fili nodded his head.

"If there are still some around," he said. "My guess is they're either flying feral, or…" He met his sons' eyes with a glint of anger. "Someone's given them new purpose."

"What about Uncle Kili?" Fjalar asked.

Fili clenched his jaw. That was indeed the right question. "Well, he's traveling with the Sons of Elrond, who I'm guessing are no strangers to _crebain_." He leveled a look at his sons. "And since it took this raven two or three days to get here, it's a sure bet Kili's already learned about _crebain_ harassing our ravens the same way we just did."

Fjalar pressed his lips together and looked at his feet. "It's just hard to stand here knowing our family could be under attack," he growled.

Fili nodded, but he stayed calm. "Your uncle's fought through worse than a wild flock of crows," Fili tried to assure his lads.

But in the crook of Fili's arm, Kaia muttered and panted, and the only word they understood was _crebain._

"Da?" Gunz asked.

Fili raised an eyebrow at his middle son.

"Couldn't we make talismans for them?"

"For the ravens?" Fili asked, not quite understanding.

Gunz nodded, his face serious. "Just a tiny piece of Erebor stone…for protection."

Fjalar suddenly looked interested. "Attached to a band…around the ankle. Strong enough so they can't peck them off."

Gunz nodded.

Fili raised both eyebrows.

"We could put several on them with a message," Fjalar said. "Tell Uncle Kili to take the extras and spread them around to the other birds."

Gunz brightened with the thought, turned, and dashed for the door.

Halfway there he stopped himself as if recalling the protocols that went with being allowed in the King's Study. Chagrined, he turned, made a proper bow to his father, and asked to be excused.

Fili made an effort to look stern, granted Gunz a head nod, and then smiled. "Should we meet on western terrace?"

Both lads nodded.

"Then I'll see you there," Fili said.

Gunz turned and dashed away, causing the Chamberlain to leap forward to open the door in time to let him out.

Fjalar and Fili eased Kaia back into the bird box.

"Better keep her inside for a few days," Fili said. Fjalar nodded, his eyes alight with the idea of protection bands. He took the bird box and turned for the door, though with more dignity than his brother's mad dash.

Fili smiled and placed a paperweight on top of the agreement he'd been reading. Then he grabbed his coat.

A project with his lads had far more appeal than an afternoon of reviewing trade agreements. All the better if it helped his brother.

* * *

Two days after crossing the Anduin, Kili and his company were traveling on foot: four elves, two men, and ten dwarves. The two Rohirrim who'd come along had departed with the horses that very morning. They would descend back to the Anduin and rejoin Lëofa's caravan.

The high reaches of the Misty Mountains were no place for horses, and Kili's guides were taking them through deep snow and along narrow elven trails. Soon they'd be threading through a gorge that would dive under the ridgeline and come out on the western side of the mountains. Then a steep descent to Rivendell, and they'd outfit themselves with horses again.

The Sons of Elrond confirmed the pass was clear.

"Purged of goblin filth two years back," Elladan had said grimly. "Rivendell patrols these paths, now."

"It's a steep climb," Elrohir had added. "But we'll be joining the East Gatehouse Guard for their mid-day meal." He'd smiled.

Kili had politely stayed quiet, though he had heard the Bruns brothers' skeptical snorts. He was secretly thankful that they carried their own provisions of sausages. Elf-food was not generally fit for consumption, in his opinion.

Now, Kili trudged uphill, head down, snow up to his knees. They were spread out in a long line, Elladan in the lead with Bruilan, Yanu, Bendin and the three dwarf lasses. Then the three Bruns brothers, Bofur, Kili, Skirfir, and lastly Halden, Tuilind, and Elrohir.

They were climbing a series of snowy switchbacks up a steep ravine—Elladan at the top, Elrohir at the end, four levels below—the mid-morning sun in a bright blue cloudless sky nearly blinding them.

Kili kept putting one foot in front of the other, not much bothered by the hard work of climbing in the snow. Bofur, sixty years his senior, trudged along ahead of him a little more slowly. _Hardy miner stock, my people are_, he'd said that morning as they'd all looked up the slope and considered the climb.

Kili blew on his hands. Even with the exertion of climbing, the cold was penetrating his gloves. He patted his pocket, wondering if the waterskin he'd stashed there would freeze.

A fleeting shadow overhead made Kili look up. He wasn't expecting a raven, but at this distance from Erebor, who could tell when one would arrive?

But it didn't fly like a raven. It streaked by, high overhead. He shaded his eyes to look, frowning. Too small for a raven, and the wing shape was wrong.

Then he heard Elladan's cry from higher up.

There—from the north—a black cloud of birds coming towards them like arrows shot from a battalion of archers.

"_Crebain!_" Kili shouted to Bofur and the Bruns brothers. They ducked—but on the steep snowy hillside, there was no shelter. His eyes went uphill, instinctively looking for Nÿr and the lasses.

He saw no one.

_They've hunkered down_, Kili realized. He reached back and grabbed Skirfir's arm, pulling the lad close, Halden right behind him.

Together, they drew swords. Ahead of them Bofur pulled out a length of chain.

"Bolos!" Bofur called ahead to the Bruns brothers. Bofur raised an arm and spun the weighted ends just as the leading edge of a dark cloud of frenetic birds reached them.

The air filled with shrill, shrieking caws unlike the sounds of any natural crows or ravens. Kili caught glimpses of bony skulls and long, jagged beaks.

_Mahal. Filthy spies!_

He put his back to Skirfir and whirled his blade, smacking aside at least one bird, but they swarmed and veered so fast that there was no targeting them. He felt one catch at his hair, another collide with his shoulder, and at least one beak strafed his cheek, leaving a line of hot blood.

Skirfir managed to whack three in one swing, and Bofur's bolo's cut a swath of clear air until a full dozen _crebain_ were entangled in the chain and brought it down.

"Hit the ground!" Kili called to him as he a Skirfir edged closer, their blades covering Bofur's position.

Kili hit two_ crebain_ with one swing, five or six when he reversed and spun the blade backward. But they got between him and the blade, blocked his vision, and screamed louder than anything.

But he heard a deep snarl, had a bare second to register the presence of something new, and then saw something lift Bofur, rolling him backward under a mass of scrappy fur.

_"Warg!"_ Kili bellowed, hacking into the meaty shoulder of the beast with a solid _whump_.

Skirfir stabbed, and behind them, Halden swooped his blade down square on the beast's spine. Kili pulled back and spun, both hands on his sword, putting all his force behind a powerful blow to the ugly head, hearing the sickening crack of the skull as he knocked the stunned beast aside. It made a half-yelp, and then Halden's longer sword impaled it, point driven straight down through the ribcage.

Kili sliced its' throat, and as it kicked in its death throes, Skirfir turned left and right, sword up, scanning the horizon. They could see its tracks in the snow-see that it had come from high above the turn in the trail, probably leapt at them from twenty lengths up.

"Are there more?" Kili shouted.

"I don't see any!" Skirfir answered, taking a swipe at three last _crebain_. And then Tuilind and Elrohir were there, bows out, arrows nocked.

Kili looked up the hill. The swarming birds circled something above.

_Nÿr!_

Then he saw a glint of light, like a mirror flashing in the sun.

"Elladan!" Elrohir cried out. As they watched, the last of the _crebain_ scattered like a small explosion had gone off, but they quickly reformed, fleeing south.

"Regroup!" They heard Elladan call down. Kili took that as a sign that everyone above was safe.

But down here, they were not.

Sword still in hand, he darted forward. "Bofur!" he shouted.

Bofur, wily miner and long-time friend, lay bloody and senseless in the snow, his shoulder a mess of cloth and tissue torn by the warg's foul teeth.

Kili went to his knees. "Bofur! Mahal's mercy, Bofe." He stripped off his gloves, cupping Bofur's jaw.

_Is he still alive?_

Kili heard Tuilind gasp, then take off up the hill at a run, her light elf steps unhindered by the snow. She would bring help. Vaguely, he heard Halden and the Bruns brothers calling to each other, on the lookout for more wargs.

_A lone warg, no rider, out of nowhere? How could that be?_

Skirfir pressed a roll of bandages into his hands and without finesse, Kili applied a wad to the bloody mess of Bofur's wound and pressed down.

Blood still pumped from torn veins, but for how much longer?

Kili's vision was suddenly blurry. Bofur wasn't of the line of Durin…but he'd been with them through everything.

_Mahal, help him hang on,_ Kili prayed.

Then he heard worse news.

"The _crebain_…! Ravaged one of the lasses!" It was one of the Bruns brothers' voices—he couldn't tell which.

Kili looked up, eyes wide in real fear, to the trail above them even as he held pressure tight to Bofur's wound.

_"…There's blood everywhere up there!"_

* * *

**** O.O** As always, drop me a note or PM and let me know that you're still reading and what you thought. I realize it's getting very hard to be a happy fan with the impending release of BOFA getting closer...hang in there! Hoping to get the next chapter posted by Saturday.

** Note about maps:** I use the "interactive map of middle earth" posted on the internet by the LOTR project dot com. If you've never seen it, check it out! Our travelers are now closer to Rivendell than Erebor…and as you can see, the path they're about to take over the Misty Mountains is somewhat south of the path marked as the one where Thorin and Co. encountered stone giants.

Huge thanks to **BlueRiverSteel, Cassandrala, **and** Jessie152**, the beta reading/idea bouncing team. You gals are totally fab!

**Mahal's blessings to all of YOU** as well-I appreciate every note, so don't be shy!******


	12. Chapter 12

****A/N: **Elvish translations in footnotes at the end!******

* * *

**Chapter 12**

Lady Nÿr, healer and Princess of Erebor, was holding her own on the steep climb up snowy switchbacks. She had stumbled twice, sank into deep snow up to her hip once, but all three times she'd righted herself and gotten back to her feet without help. She had no need to expect Fria or Bruilan or even Embur to assist. She was strong and capable—a Daughter of Durin, after all.

She snorted at herself. Until this past year, she hadn't known that the blood of Durin ran through her veins—she had only just focused on being who she was: a plain lass in training to be a healer—learning how to make a difference in a quiet way.

Becoming a princess had certainly never been in the picture. Becoming a mother even less so.

Until now. Now the little life she carried within had her constant attention, even though he was too small to be noticed by anyone but her. But Nÿr thought about him first thing when she woke, said goodnight to him when she settled for sleep…and now she daydreamed about holding his hand, helping her little son climb a hill, teaching him to pace himself and reach his goal. Of course he would have his father's raven-black hair and…

Elladan suddenly sounded an alarm. "_Nad no ennas!_"

Nÿr looked up to see the tall black-haired elf turning with a look of angry alarm. He pointed to the sky and she looked in time to see a cloud of ravens...

_No—not ravens_, she realized, catching a glimpse of ugly, bony heads and jagged beaks as three dark forms streaked by. _Mahal...  
_  
Steel rang as Fria drew her sword. Elladan and Bruilan, the man of Gondor, both had their blades out, ready to fight. Yanu drew his short swords and moved to stand with Fria. Nÿr looked for her apprentice, young Embur, two steps away. The lass's brother Bendin was on the trail behind them, but she couldn't see where.

And then they were overtaken—swarmed by a mass of the most horrible, screeching birds. Nÿr reached for her long knife, but three or four of the wicked things were in her face. She spun, putting her back to them, feeling them smacking against her thick leather hood.

A whoosh and a cry from Fria told her the guard lass was striking at them with her sword.

Nÿr dropped to the snowy ground. It was the thing they'd trained for—without any other cover, drop to the ground and stay out of the way.

But the birds dropped with her.

Instinctively, Nÿr protected her unborn child, pulling her body into a tight defensive curl. _Not Kirin...! _The snow was icy against her face and sputtered with it._  
_

Then a tug and she felt sharp beaks tearing at her hood, pecking on the saddlebags that she wore bandolier-style on each hip. And in the confusion, she lost track of the warriors—she could hear nothing but the deafening raucous squall of the horrible flock.

And as a ravenspeaker, she could even understand them. _Death to Durin spawn! Death! Death!  
_  
_Kili!_ Fear spiked in her gut and her mind raced. Kili patrolled near the end of their group—the stronger swordfighters having been positioned at the back, protecting their flank. Were these horrible things swarming him too...?

Then one was on the ground too close to her face, pecking, trying to strike her eyes.

She raised her gloved hand and smacked the ratty bird, but it only struck at her fingers, clenched one in its beak and pulled. Nÿr snarled, barely able to shake it off.

A heavy boot crushed it and then someone fell across her as protective cover.

"Away from her!" It was Embur's voice, full of rage. Embur, young and innocent, sheltering her with her body.

Nÿr tried to curl tighter, forcing herself not to think of the lass's sacrifice—but instead clenched her eyes shut and put every ounce of energy into protecting her tiny child within. _Kirin! Mahal…  
_  
And then a sense of Elladan and Bruilan's boots nearby. Something landed by her feet (a dead bird?) She felt Embur moving, as if covering her head...

_"Gwannathach!"_ Elladan roared and something flashed so brightly that her vision went momentarily white, even with her eyes closed and her head ducked.

Then silence. She could feel Embur on top of her, heaving for breath.

"They are gone!" Bruilan panted. "Lady Nÿr! Up!"

Nÿr obeyed, uncoiling and dumping Embur off her back and opening her eyes to a bloody scene—twenty or thirty birds (or more accurately, pieces of birds) stained the snow with oily dark feathers and blood.

And Embur's face was awash with it.

"Embur!" It was her brother Bendin, running uphill to them, blood streaming from cuts, eyes wide in horrified realization that his sister was wounded.

"Sweetie…" Nÿr rose to get her arms around the lass and take a look at the damage.

"Regroup!" They heard Elladan shouting to their company on the switchbacks below.

"That's a warg!" Bruilan shouted. He dashed past her, heading down the trail toward the people below.

"It's already dead," Elladan called back. "But look for more!"

_Warg…!_ Nÿr couldn't imagine. She could only grab Embur's face in both hands as the lass slumped sideways.

"Breathe, Embur! Deep breaths…" she coached, fearing the lass would pass out. One side of her face was a bloody mess, half an ear gone. Her hat had fallen away and left her head unprotected.

"Is she all right?" Bendin had stopped short of touching her, as if suddenly afraid he would hurt her worse.

"Show me your eye," Nÿr commanded, hoping her sharp tone would bring Embur back to alertness.

Embur stayed upright and Nÿr's hands firmly angled the lassie's head, getting a look at her eye. Lacerated skin, the eyelid torn…but the eye itself seemed whole.

Mahal, what _were_ these things with such wretched nasty beaks…? Nÿr felt the sudden onset of shaky hands and an unfamiliar weakness in her spine.

_Shock, that's all_, she told herself. She reached into the saddlebag on her right hip and pulled out bandages, pressing the clean cloth to Embur's face and ear.

To her brother's horror, a piece of bloody ear cartilage dropped to the snow.

"Battle wound," she said to him. "Nothing to be done for it." They would have to let the piece go.

"Up," Bruilan said again, coming back towards them and motioning to her.

"She's wounded. I don't think she can walk," Nÿr answered.

"On my back, then," Bendin said, turning to offer his services. "We have to get out of here."

"Run for the guard house—it's two leagues up," Elladan said. "Take the lasses," he said to Yanu. "Go!"

Nÿr managed to wrap the bandage around Embur's head and tie it tight.. She heard Elladan and Yanu calling down to the others. As she boosted Embur onto to Bendin's back, she heard someone say _no dead_, and blinked relief at that answer as she helped Bendin stand.

"Lasses are heavier than people think," she said to Bendin. "Can you carry her?"

"Are you kidding?" he asked, settling Embur into a carrying position. "You first. You and Fria," he said.

Nÿr obeyed, glancing at her guard. Fria had a bloodstreaked face just like everyone else, but her eyes flashed annoyance, not pain. Nÿr got to her feet and accepted Yanu's hand as he pulled her forward.

"Stay right behind me," Yanu said. "As fast as you can."

Nÿr nodded, pulling her hood tighter. "Kili…?" she asked.

"He's fine, lass," Fria said, her voice tight. "He got that warg—and he's on his feet."

Something about Fria's tone said there was more to the story, but Nÿr took the news about her beloved as good enough. He would expect her to take care of Embur and get their unborn lad to safety, and that was her goal now.

She let go of Yanu's hand with a nod.

"I'm good," she told him, urging herself into a jog. Two leagues up at a run? No choice.

And the sooner they reached the elves' guard house, the sooner she'd be able to stop and treat Embur's injuries.

* * *

Kili, Prince of Erebor, was a seasoned battle commander. He could size up a situation quickly and his ability to focus only on the highest priorities was ingrained in him: taught by his uncle Thorin, mentored by his cousin Dwalin…learned side by side with his brother.

He looked at his injured friend and knew that Bofur needed more help than they could give him here.

It was Brunsmund, his father's cousin, who dropped beside him with more bandages and straps.

"Let's bind this quickly," Brunsmund muttered, adding more padding to the messy warg bite on Bofur's shoulder and getting straps in place to provide pressure.

He pulled one tight and Bofur suddenly gasped for breath, his eyes starting open and staring straight at Kili.

"By my beard, laddie…!"

"Bofur…" Kili let his breath out in relief. "Mahal' _ass_, Bofe."

"What," Bofur grimaced as Brunsmund pulled one last strap tight over his wound. "In seven hells was that?"

Kili helped Brunsmund get Bofur up. "Just the odd warg," he said. "On your feet, Bofur. We need to move." He'd righted a drunken Bofur more times over the years than he could count and this was not all that different, but Kili was not happy about righting wounded Bofur.

And then Brunsder was there, ready to take Bofur on his back.

"Ye got him, laddie?" Brunsmund asked his brother. Kili stepped away, letting the Bruns brothers take charge of the wily old miner. In moments, the three Brunses were charging up the trail with Halden as guard.

Kili gripped his sword, scanning the mountain side and marking the positions of Elrohir, Tuilind, and Skirfir, who was coming toward him.

"All clear," Skirfir said. "Nÿr's safe," he said. "It's Embur who's hurt," he said, providing his commander with news. "Lost an ear...they're with Yanu, running for the guard house."

Kili felt relief flood though his guts regarding Nÿr—bless Mahal a thousand times. But he winced and nodded. Poor Embur. And Bofur definitely needed the attention of their master physician, but not until she was someplace safe.

"Thanks," he said, a hand on Skirfir's shoulder. Then he looked toward Tuilind and Elrohir. Both elves stood with weapons at the ready, tense and wary.

"What is it?" he asked, as he and Skirfir put their backs to each other, swords up.

Tuilind looked pale and frightened.

Elrohir looked grim. "I'm not certain," he said. "It's a presence…" He looked around, his icy gaze meeting Kili's. "Get uphill," he murmured. "As fast as you can."

Kili and Skirfir sheathed their swords, re-arming with their long range bows and turning to charge up the snowy trail, following in the path already blazed by everyone else. Tuilind and Elrohir followed at their heels.

Halfway across a long switchback, Kili heard the eerie scream, a loud call that fell off in a minor key.

"_Awwroooooo…_"

Like a wolf call, only deeper, more sinister.

"Eru's hell!" Tuilind swore.

At the next turn in the trail, Kili and Skirfir skidded to a stop, arrows ready, scanning the slope before going further.

"Direwolf?" Tuilind asked, looking over her shoulder at Elrohir.

Elrohir paused with them, his face set. "There are no direwolves in this part of Middle Earth," he said.

The thing howled again, remarkably closer.

Kili's heart went cold. "That's no Beorning."

"No," Elrohir said. "You're right."

"There!" Skirfir aimed downhill, at the base of the switchbacks. Kili drew his bowstring, aiming at the same thing. It was out of range, but if it came any closer...but what was it?

It almost looked like an elf the color of dark red blood, and it stood on two long legs with booted feet. But the head and chest were wolf-like, the ears furry and erect, and long, sharp teeth from a wolf-like snout.

"_Gaurhoth_," Elrohir hissed. "Left behind by Saruman. _Run!_"

Kili didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed Skirfir and together they sprinted, running as if they had Mirkwood spiders at their backs.

To his surprise, Elrohir and Tuilind did not follow. At the next turn, he stopped, suddenly unwilling to run from a fight.

But Skirfir slammed into him, his hands turning him and shoving him forward. "Mahal!" the lad swore. "Fili will have my head if you turn back," he swore. "Keep going!"

So Kili kept running, even as his eyebrows raised at Skirf's audacity. But he knew the lad was right. There were bigger things at play here. The safety of his lady wife, for one, and his real task was to reach the Blue Mountains and claim the kingship, not stop and face down some remnant of Saruman's servants.

But he didn't ever like running from a foe. Every ounce of Thorin's training told him to stand and fight. Yet over the years his brother's wisdom had replaced Thorin's fiery pig-headedness. _Live to fight another day, my brother—look for the better chance._

They reached the upper trail and kept climbing, coming upon the blood-stained site where Nÿr and the lasses had been when the _crebain_ attacked.

_Too much blood…_ Kili saw. They caught up to Halden and the Bruns brothers with Bofur, who had stopped to trade carriers. Halden nodded to Kili, spotted Elrohir and Tuilind below and turned downhill to join them.

Kili let him go—and ran with the Bruns brothers now, he and Skirfir as guard with their bows.

Less than an hour later, they gained the elves' Eastern Guard House to find Elladan organizing the small contingent of Rivendell guard. They were outside on a long parapet of natural granite, cleared of snow but some of it heavily damaged from past battles. Here and there were tools and stacks of stone and tile, signs that renovation work had been underway.

"My brother!" Elladan called to them. "He is still below? Are there more wargs?"

"No wargs. A _Gaurhoth," _Kili answered, waving the lads carrying Bofur ahead to the keep. Brunsmund and Skirfir stayed with him. "Elrohir leads it in circles," Kili explained. "He is holding it off."

"Spawn of _Draugluin_…._!" _ Yanu breathed, his eyes wide in fear.

Elladan looked murderous and cursed in elvish. "It is a stray left behind by Saruman and it has sworn itself against us, my brother and I. We hit it with three arrows not two weeks ago, but they're notoriously hard to kill."

Kili's tactical brain took in the parapet and the guard house, assessing the defenses of the elves' keep.

Then his eye went to what had first looked like a row of small black birds along one odd edge of the parapet.

Not birds. A line of plugs and feathers. Chisels and wedges, in layman's terms. Stonecutter's tools. He took a step towards the line of chisels embedded in the stone. This irregular chunk of the parapet was ready to be tapped off—and then it would fall away, plunging to the ground below.

"My lord," Kili said to Elladan, pointing to the stoneworker's line of chisels and wedges. "This is ready to go."

Elladan looked blankly at the unfinished work of the stonecutters, then his eyes lit with interest, quickly going from the probable size of the block of granite to the likely location below where it would land. "This ledge was deemed unstable," he said. "They started the cutting but stopped when the last storm came through."

"If you can maneuver the _gaurhoth_ into place and get yourselves uphill of that outcropping," Kili pointed to the landscape of the culvert below. "It will bury the beast when it falls." Kili strode to the tools and lifting a mallet, knelt next to the first embedded chisel and turned his ear turned to the stone. His mallet smacked firm one time and the stone answered with a subtle crack. Kili, eyes wide, nodded to confirm his assessment that the stone was ready to fall away.

It was all the proof that Elladan needed.

"Give us a ten second lead. No more." Elladan leapt for the path below and in that looping and sliding action typical of elves. He and his guard were down the rock face in nothing flat, joining his brother against the errant _gaurhoth_.

"Hammers, Lads!" Kili was on his feet, grabbing the nearest sledgehammer. At their call, Brunsder returned, and Kili commandeered Bruilan. "Two chisels a piece. Hammer the right, then the left," he coached Bruilan.

Five of them carried sledgehammers and lined up on the "safe" side of the chisels and wedges, a good three feet back from the jagged edge of the parapet. Two Brunses, Skirfir, Kili, and then Bruilan, the man of Gondor.

"On the count of three," Kili called to them. "One, two, three…"

Together they raised the sledgehammers and struck the chisels, and being dwarves and a strong Man, they hit them dead on. And also being dwarves who understood stone craft in their very bones, they paused to let the stone react, and Bruilan followed their lead when they instinctively raised hammers again to pound the alternate chisels. By the fifth pound, the stone reacted with audible popping and cracks.

Kili could feel it in the stone beneath his feet—the jagged shaped granite shearing slowly away from the solid stone parapet. The work that the elves had started was about to end.

They pounded once more and stopped to listen, their eyes on the granite, watching the minute crack widen, satisfied with the way the wedges had fractured the stone.

Below, they heard the _gaurhoth_ roar and the Sons of Elrond answer with a clang of swords.

Kili risked a step forward to spot the combatants. The elf brothers harried the larger _gaurhoth_, and indeed they had herded it into the debris zone. Halden and the other elves remained uphill in the safer area.

The rock beneath him shifted and Kili pulled back.

"Prybars!" he called, bending to pull the chisels and wedges from the holes. Skirfir helped, clearing the line of plugs. Brunsden passed around tall prybars and the five of them stood at the line, poking at the finger-wide crack in the stone and setting the points of their iron levers.

"On three again!" Kili called. "One…two… three!" They pulled, the bars pushed, and the slab moved another finger-width. "Again!" They repeated the process until the slab started to lean away from the cliff face on its own.

"_Tombstone!_" Kili bellowed as the five stonecutters stepped back. He had to trust that the Sons of Elrond possessed the kind of elven agility that he'd seen Legolas employ to get themselves clear of the landing zone. He figured they had their ten seconds.

The stone fell away, made a mid-air tumble, and cracked against the earth below, breaking apart and avalanching down…a dust cloud billowing up in return.

Kili stared. He hoped they'd just buried that _gaurhoth_ forever.

_What if I just killed the sons of Elrond?_ He imagined Gandalf waiting for him in the Halls of Mandos with his wizard's staff barring the way. _Fool of a dwarf!_

Then he heard hoots of triumph.

"We did it!" Bruilan shouted, his fists in the air.

Brunsmund slapped Kili on the back in congratulations. "Brilliant, lad. Thorin himself could not have seen that chance…"

Kili smiled in relief, then thanked his crew with grateful hand clasps.

"Skirfir," he asked. "Where is my lady wife?"

Brunsder pointed the way and they all stood back, giving him room.

Skirfir followed him as he jogged up to the Guard House—a small stone keep of obvious elven design, though the stonework had seen much abuse at the hands of lesser beings.

"Nÿr!" Kili called as they came into the round main hall.

She stood and came quickly, her gear streaked with blood. He stared. Was any of it hers?

"Are you hurt?" she demanded.

He stopped. "No. You?"

"No!" She looked fierce a moment, then their eyes met. Not fierce, he realized. Frightened. But oh, so bravely doing her duty.

He reached his hand toward her.

She took it. Then he pulled her tight against him, getting both arms around her. He planted a kiss on her brow, eyes squeezed shut, not caring whose blood was there.

"My brave lass," he murmured. "Mahal, I thought I'd lost you."

But she was warm, whole, strong, and hugging him back.

* * *

**THANK YOU** for reading...and thanks to **BlueRiverSteel** and **Jessie152** for beta-reading on this chapter! PLEASE leave a quick note or PM and let me know what you think (thank you thank you for the messages last time-they really do help me retain focus on getting the next chapter out.) If you're traveling this upcoming week (it's a US holiday starting on Thursday) then please travel safely and know I give heartfelt thanks for all of YOU!

Mahal's Blessings! Summer

* * *

_Nad no ennas! =_ Something's out there!

_Gwannathach! = _you will depart/die!

_Gaurhoth_ = a first age werewolf from the writings in the _Silmarillion_. Not a shape-changing werewolf of modern tales: Tolkien's werewolf was a half-wolf being. It's my own speculation that 1) Saruman would have have had one in his coterie of creatures and 2) that it's half elf/half wolf. See also _Draugluin_, and 3) at loose ends without its master.

_Stonecutting:_ I took the stonecutting references from several sources, including a nice YouTube video on traditional stonecutting filmed in Maine, titled "Cutting stone at the deer isle hostel." Just google that and it should come up and you'll get a visual on the chisels and wedges. Any inaccuracies in the physics of stonecutting are entirely my fault. ;P


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Kili, Prince of Erebor en route to the Blue Mountains, felt immensely grateful that his beloved Nÿr was on her feet and feisty.

_Thank Mahal, she is safe and whole_. She and their unborn lad.

Bofur and his young niece Embur were not so lucky. Reassured that no one was near death, he left their wounded in the capable hands of his Lady Nÿr. The elves had given over the little hall of their ridgetop guard house and Bofur and Embur's wounds were being tended as best as could be.

With a sigh, he left the shelter, his nerves still edgy after the last few hours of attack and defense. Not everyone in their group knew that his Lady Wife carried their firstborn. The pregnancy was still early and dwarf lasses didn't show much in the first half of the term. Embur knew—it was why the young lass was along—as Nÿr's apprentice and pregnancy nurse.

But the younger lass had just been mauled by _crebain_ while shielding her princess. She would survive, but the poor youngster had considerably less of one ear.

_Right brave lassie._ Kili's heart ached for her, though. She was the youngest of their group, younger in fact than he had been on his first trip to Dunland.

Kili walked the length of the long granite parapet, Skirfir alongside, still alert for trouble. It was late afternoon and if he read the dark clouds to the west correctly, a storm was blowing in. He made his way to the place where Bruilan and Yanu tracked the return of the others in their group.

He couldn't help replaying the attack in his head, wondering what they could have done differently, how they could have kept clear of the _crebain_, not exposed themselves to a warg… Embur's Uncle Bofur, the oldest dwarf in the company, was as tough an old miner as they came. Still, the bloody warg bite on his shoulder would take time to heal. At least Nÿr had confirmed no broken bones.

"You are not at fault," Yanu said to him as Kili and Skirfir joined the tall, shy Silvan elf on the parapet outside the guard house. The ridgetop afforded a view both east and west, and Yanu's sharp eyes roved the landscape. "Not even the Sons of Elrond or the Ranger saw signs of an ambush." He nodded to the thin trail below where Elladan and Elrohir led their small contingent of fighters back up to the guard house.

"I am not much of a leader if I'm not responsible," Kili glowered. "Two of my people are hurt."

"You killed the warg. You used that unfinished stonecut against the gaurhoth. You did in one hour what most commanders could not do in a day." Yanu looked uncharacteristically fierce. "I, for one, trust your sense of things, my Lord. Implicitly."

Kili considered the white-haired elf's words. Yanu was generally too shy to say so much. "Thanks, Yanu. I appreciate your support." His eyes went to the horizon and he scanned the treetops and the snowy ridgeline for any sign of returning _crebain_.

Bruilan, the man of Gondor, joined them. "The dust is settling. The gaurhoth's definitely dead," he handed Kili a brass tube with a seafarer's lens and pointed to the stone debris below. "You can see his foreleg and a hind foot there," he pointed.

Kili used the farviewer to spot the remains of the gaurhoth. It was coated in rock dust and lay in dirty snow, but with the lens he could see that a rather large chunk of granite had definitely flattened the ugly beast. He handed the farviewer back, feeling better now that he had confirmation that their work had done its job.

"Raven!" Skirfir called, pointing east.

Bruilan alerted, drawing his sword.

"Yes," Kili confirmed. "Raven—not _crebain_." He stepped away from the others and raised his arm to summon the large corvid.

Skirfir called down to the travelers below to ensure no one shot arrows at it. "Raaavennn!"

Elrohir made an answering wave.

Kili watched the incoming bird. It was Corax, gliding in on an upsweep, his feet reaching for Kili's arm, wings wide. He'd been sent to Erebor three days ago. Now he was back and Kili didn't bother to hide his relief. It was a long journey from here to Erebor and back.

"Friend, friend, friend!" Corax cried, obviously relieved to see Kili.

"Corax! You amazing bird—you fine fellow…" Kili praised the raven for having flown so far, getting a look at him. Corax was in good shape, however—not like the frazzled condition of several ravens lately. They'd reported being harassed by crows.

Not crows, _crebain_, Kili knew now.

Corax's beady eyes took in his surroundings and he hunkered on Kili's arm, suddenly angry. "Nasty, nasty, nasty," he cullocked loudly in alarm.

"Yes. _Crebain_ were here. They're gone now."

Corax flapped, cullocked over and over, and wouldn't settle. "South. South," he said. "Gone. Far gone. Nasty."

"The _crebain_ have gone far south of here?" Kili stepped further away from his companions. Yanu and Bruilan watched with interest. "Will they come back?"

"Nasty. No. Went south. No more bad friend." Corax wagged his tail with vigor, as if shaking off a lingering scent.

"He seems to think the Gaurhoth was directing the crebain. Since he's dead, they've gone south," Kili shared. "He thinks they won't return."

Bruilan, who'd become familiar with the Durin talent of ravenspeaking during the past summer, nodded with some relief at the news and relaxed his stance just a bit. He trusted that raven and dwarf had the right of it.

Kili spotted unusual decorations on the bird's legs. "What are you carrying here, Corax?" he asked, trying to distract the bird. "What have you got?" Kili held up a finger to Corax's foot, hoping the bird would respond.

Corax lifted his foot and quieted, tentatively clutching at Kili's finger, then pulling back, then clutching again.

"Sunny Lad, Sunny Lad," Corax muttered. "Spell stones. Take, you take, you take."

Kili's brows went up. "Sonny Lad? Or Sunny Lad? Who's that you've named, then?" Kili got a peek at Corax's leg. The bird had six or seven tiny bands around each leg with a seed-sized piece of stone on each. Near his foot was a larger one.

Tiny beads of Erebor stone. "Gunnar. You've named Gunz? King-but-not-King's nest mate?"

"Sunny Lad. Stonespeller. Make ravens safe." Corax lifted his foot, offering it to Kili. "Take."

Kili understood, and with a sense of relief he closed his eyes a moment. _My brother. Helping us all the way from Erebor…_ Kili felt like a great weight was suddenly lifted. _Fili… _He suddenly wanted nothing more than to see his brother walking across the parapet to him, arms wide. What he would give to have Fili's steady presence beside him, wrap him in a bear hug. _Nadad…_

Heartened, he reached into a pocket and pulled out his nocking pliers, calling softly to Skirfir for assistance. Gently, he used the tool to bend each band loose of Corax's thin legs, first the left, then the right. He dropped each band and stone into Skirf's open hand.

Finally, there was only one band and stone bead left, with a small _cx_ etched on the metal. "I think we're meant to leave this one on you, my friend," he said to Corax.

Corax shook, looking quite proud of himself for delivering his message and collection of bands. Kili reached into his belt pouch for a handful of nuts—a supply any ravenspeaker kept on hand. Corax was eager to eat, Kili realized. He was a hungry bird. Kili eased the big raven to the top of a stone wall and set a generous helping of nuts in front of him. Corax hopped over and immediately set to pecking and cracking.

"What did he bring?" Bruilan asked, having watched the interaction between dwarf prince and raven.

"My brother sends a source of protection for the ravens," Kili said, smiling. He took the bands and beads that Skirfir offered. "Just a bit of a dwarvish magic—his son has the knack for stonespelling." Kili held up the band with the larger stone and peered at it. Sure enough, he spotted three small runes etched onto the band. N-Y-R. This was meant for his lady wife. He wondered if more ravens would arrive with stones enough for everyone.

"How does that work?" Bruilan looked skeptical. "Does it keep _crebain_ from bothering them?"

"Yes," Yanu said. "Quite effectively, I'd say, since Corax looks well. Did Gunz make these?"

Kili nodded. "My brother's second son," he explained to Bruilan. "He's just a lad, mind you." And he had his raven name now. How long before he was ready to learn ravenspeaking? Kili had a pang of regret, knowing he'd miss the moment. "The ravens have named him," he said to Skirfir, suppressing a shy, proud uncle smile. "Sunny Lad."

Skirfir's smile was genuine. Like everyone else, he honestly liked Gunz. Kili hoped his own lad would grow up to know his cousins and he harbored a hope that Gunz might join them in Ered Luin for training in a few years…and that was the point, he reminded himself, of traveling to the Blue Mountains. To claim a kingship and make safe the roads of the North. Together, he and Fili would help Aragorn make travel across Arnor commonplace again.

In the meantime, he hoped Corax's feeling that the _crebain_ would not return was correct.

Kili looked at Corax, greedily helping himself to nuts.

"My Lord…" Skirfir alerted him.

On the trail below, Halden was hailing them. The sortie of elves and one Ranger climbed up the last approach, the small contingent of guardhouse elves striding silently past, resuming their posts. Halden's tired face was triumphant as he and the Sons of Elrond greeted Kili and Bruilan. Tuilind stood beside the Ranger looking tired but very glad the job was done.

Elladan came straight to Kili and clapped him on the back, peering over the edge of the parapet at the freshly cut granite ledge, looking critically at the freshly sheared rock face.

Kili worried. They'd been a bit hasty, rushing the work like that.

But Elladan nodded, as if approving a construction job. "Nice and straight." He looked back at Kili and smiled. "Excellent work, my Lord Prince. One gaurhoth dead, one new piece of stonework, done!"

Kili's nod and smile were more relief than anything else. "Happy to help, my lord."

Halden joined them. "We can definitely cross that beastie off everyone's list of troubles," he said. "That gaurhoth is well and truly dead under that slab of granite." His smile was grim but satisfied. "Our alliance made for good teamwork."

Elrohir nodded. "Our thanks to dwarves and men today."

Kili made a hand-on-heart acknowledgement while Halden and Bruilan politely nodded their thanks in return.

"Is it safe to stay here, tonight?" Kili asked. "Our raven," he looked toward Corax, still gorging himself on nuts, "Reports the _crebain_ have moved south and east, and that," he gestured toward the dark clouds looming in the west. "Looks to me like a storm coming in. This is a better defensive position than being out in the open."

Elrohir nodded. "Yes. The men and elves can take the guardhouse dorms. Keep your people in the hall with the larger fireplace." Elrohir's hand rested on Kili's shoulder in a show of concern for the dwarf wounded. "The storm will howl tonight. Tomorrow we will take the _lominrâd_ and be in Rivendell by nightfall."

Kili nodded and breathed deep in relief. He couldn't make Bofur and Embur well, but he could give them one night of undisturbed warmth and shelter before another day of travel. Once in Rivendell, they could afford a few days rest and time for them to heal.

* * *

Kili sent Skirfir back to the hall with news that they would remain for the night, but he remained on the parapet until just past sunset, even as the men and elves retired to the guardhouse dorms. He received two more ravens from Erebor—delivering the very good news of Dwalin's victory in routing a hundred or so goblins out of the foothills below Gundabad. Erebor's battalion would remain long enough to mop up and then return to Erebor before the heaviest snows set in.

The first raven arrived fit and hale, bearing another delivery of bands with stone beads, but the third was un-banded and came in looking quite disheveled. Kili took one of the extra bands and used his nocking pliers to crimp it loosely around young Orkk's leg.

"Leave the bead there," Kili said to the bedraggled raven as its beak explored the new trinket. "Keeps _crebain_ away. See Corax? He wears the band, so no _crebain_." Satisfied that his ravens were safer, he launched Orkk into the air and pointed to the eaves of the sharply pitched snow roof of the guard house. The wind had picked up and it blew his hood back. Storm clouds were quickly veiling the stars, and the first snowflakes blew past as he saw Corax poking around in rafters under the roofline. "Roost under here for the night," he encouraged them, pointing to the covered space. There were no trees this high up on the ridgeline, but roosting under the eaves would protect the birds from wind and cold. "Snow coming. More nuts in the morning," he promised.

All three ravens raised their heads at him at that, and he felt confident they would stay for food. Since the guard post was above the tree line, a foraging bird would find slim pickings here. The best chance for a full crop in the morning was to wait for nuts provided by Raven Prince.

Kili watched Orkk explore a cubbyhole space and settle. The other two hopped up, pecked at the wooden beams, then eyed the overhead covering. Satisfied that they would move themselves in, Kili left them to it.

He joined Skirfir in checking the nearby woodpile, each of them loading up with as much as they could carry. Together they went inside for the night. One of the elf guards nodded that they were the last ones in and barred the door behind them.

Kili and Skirf added their wood to the inside supply, then stripped off their outer leathers in the foyer, adding them to racks built for hanging wet gear to dry. Skirfir took up the task of tidying up, re-hanging dwarf gear and lining up boots.

Inside a second door, Kili found the rest of the dwarves had set up camp inside the circle of the little round hall. It was warm, lit by logs burning in the large hunter's hearth, and bedrolls had been spread out around the perimeter, giving Nÿr and the lasses space in the center.

Kili saw her across the room, sitting on a blanket in front of the fire, Embur in her arms. She was helping the injured lass to drink tea—probably laced with a pain killer—the lassie's bandaged ear and jaw an impediment. Fria sat nearby, tending the fire and stew pot.

Then he realized why they were all quiet. Nÿr was singing softly and everyone was still, listening. Mesmerized, even. Her voice was quiet, as if singing a lullaby to her wounded apprentice…and he recognized the healer's song, a tune the trainees learned to remind themselves to be gentle, wise, and kind to children and old folks. In some parts, Fria lent her deeper voice in a simple harmony.

_…in every young face,  
no matter how angry or sad,  
lies the blossom of a pure heart,  
not evil, wrong or bad._

Kili stopped, unwilling to interrupt them. To his left, the Bruns brothers sat with their backs to the wall, listening. Brunsmund's eyes met his, somber, silent, and unusually teary.

_The lads aren't used to lassies,_ Kili realized. Predictably, they were entirely smitten, as if they recalled mothers or past loves. Nÿr and Fria's song continued, and it soothed the entire group.

_So if you have a young child,  
be gentle, wise, and kind,  
and treat them like an opal,  
so rare and hard to find.  
_  
To his right, Bofur lay resting on his back under a warm blanket, shoulder more properly bandaged. Young Bendin sat beside him, looking weighed down and stunned.

As the gentle song continued, Kili stepped to Bofur's bedroll and knelt, brushing the old miner's hair aside to feel his forehead. Warm…but not fevered. Seeing Bendin's helpless despair, he reached to cup the lad's head. Kili slowly leaned forward, touching foreheads with the younger dwarf.

"He's survived much worse," Kili murmured quietly to the lad. "Take heart, Bendin. And your sister—she is strong and brave. We will see her healed." He didn't comment on the tears Bendin shed in shaky silence, but he wiped one away with his thumb and clenched his own eyes tight at Bendin's pain. The young miner had nearly lost both uncle and sister today. "You have every right to your tears," he whispered. After a moment he felt Bofur's hand on his knee and reached down to take it, then place it in Bendin's hand. "Rest, lads," he said. He rose, leaving Bofur to his kin.

The Bruns brothers, he discovered, had gotten to their feet and stood before him now, their faces as damp as Bendin's.

Kili didn't understand at first.

Until the three Blue Mountains dwarves bowed deeply to him in unison.

"My Lord," Brunsmund said very softly, removing his cap. "You are already our King." His brothers bowed their heads, hands on hearts.

Kili wasn't entirely sure he deserved their regard. His eyes went to Nÿr, still gently rocking Embur and singing softly.

_And if you know the old folks,  
be gentle, wise and kind,  
Their souls will soon depart us,  
and leave this world behind…_

"As she is already our Queen." Brunsmund nodded now, his proud and approving expression reminding Kili of old Balin.

Kili rested one hand on the senior dwarf's shoulder, and nodded his thanks. Brunsmund returned the gesture.

For the first time, Kili understood in his soul that the Blue Mountains people were his—not to rule, but to care for and protect. He was not being called _away_ from his brother…he was being called _to_ the people of his father, whose last councilors were aged and dying. Who would look out for them now if he didn't?

_They've given us the future,  
They taught us what they know,  
to soon to be a part of  
Aüle's Kingdom, where they go…_

He ducked his head in apology to the Bruns brothers, then stepped silently to kneel beside his lady wife. She finished the song. Embur was nodding off to sleep, and he helped gently lower her to the bedroll as Nÿr tucked the blanket.

Fria nodded, then turned to poke the fire.

Nÿr looked exhausted. Kili opened his arm to her and enfolded his dear beloved against his chest. He wasn't certain that her tears were as private as she thought, but he felt her shoulders shake and she sniffed discreetly against his shirt. By Mahal, he would hold her and let her cry as much as she wanted.

* * *

Skirfir, archer lad of Erebor, was the first one awake in the morning. The storm had roared against the elves' ridgetop guardhouse all night, but the hearth fire had kept them warm, the wind had ceased, and it was quiet.

Except for the rumble of dwarvish snoring.

Really, Skirfir thought. There was no stealth to a pack of sleeping dwarves—their position could be marked from a league away. Thank Mahal they were inside and the weather too rough for fell beasts.

He took "first up" duty and slid from under his blanket, going to the fire, adding wood, and re-stoking the flames. Around the room, his fellow dwarves lay in slumber, but his gaze rested on his lord and commander. Nÿr lay within reach of the wounded Ember, and Kili lay spooned against his lady wife, his posture both protective and intimate. Skirfir felt at once shocked and a little embarrassed at seeing them together this way. Such tenderness between and lad and lass were usually very private. Then he thought again and felt heartened by the show of trust his pirnce had in his traveling companions. Besides, he was just keeping her warm, he decided. Chivalry.

Fria, guard commander and Lady Nÿr's bodyguard, was beside him then, checking the water kettle and warming her hands.

"Leave them be," she murmured. "Let them sleep as long as they will."

Skirfir nodded. He had no intention of waking his lord prince. Kili's sleep was erratic enough when he traveled.

But an hour later Nÿr had risen to check Embur, help her with a little morning cleanup (they'd positioned a latrine bucket out in the foyer) and encourage her to drink a fresh dose of pain-killing tea.

Kili headed outside to check on his ravens and Skirfir followed with bow and sword.

Outside, the early morning sun shone bright and the air felt cold and still. Skirfir had been on the heights of Erebor after a storm and was not surprised by the blanket of fresh snow piled up past their knees, but the spectacle of an entire mountain range bathed in icy wonder as far he could see made him blink in awe.

Kili stayed close to the guard house, peering under the eaves, a sack of nuts in one gloved hand.

Skirfir scanned the area around them, vigilant on his prince's behalf, but he saw only the light footprints of elves on the pristine snow. He spotted Tuilind and Yanu at the far end of the parapet. They too seemed wide-eyed and amazed at the spectacle of the vast snow covered mountain range around them.

"Are you having a lie-in?" Kili was looking up at three dark fluffs hunkered under the eaves.

Skirfir heard a muttered quork in reply.

"Yes, we're all quite late risers this morning," Kili said to them. He winked at Skirfir as he turned and plowed his way to the western edge of the parapet, clearing snow from the top of the stone wall with his arm. He made three piles of nuts. Before he could step back, all three ravens had found their way over. Two landed on the wall, shook themselves, and started in on breakfast.

The third landed on Kili's shoulder, muttering and preening Kili's hood.

"Ah, leave off, Corax," Kili laughed, managing to shift the bird to his hand, then to the wall and his pile of nuts.

Elladan joined them, watching the ravens eat. "They are quite remarkably attached to you," he commented.

"They will sometimes speak to Tuilind or Yanu," Kili said. "Do they not speak to you?"

Elladan smiled. "I can hear them if they shout at me," but he shook his head. "But I don't understand their quiet chatter. That's a Durin specialty, I think."

Kili smiled and blushed. "Right now they're just hungry."

Skirfir remained a few steps back from his prince, eyes still scanning their surroundings.

"Is there a particular direction you'd like them to scout this morning?" he heard Kili ask.

"Rivendell lies that way," Elladan pointed west and a little south. "Our path will go underground for a bit, come out below that ridge there."

Skirfir's eye followed Elladan's direction. It would be a good four hour journey to get so far, he figured.

"The snow will be lighter as we descend to Rivendell. We will find icy patches in the valley, but it's far warmer. We'll be able to rest and heal your wounded there."

Elladan excused himself and headed to join Tuilind and Yanu.

"These mountains just go on forever," Skirfir breathed, eyes wide at the scene around them. "Will the Blue Mountains be like this?"

Kili looked at him and smiled. "A little bit. They are not so wide and the granite is different," he scraped more snow from the short wall, showing the dappled grey stone. "Ered Luin's stone really does have a blue cast—it has more mica and quartz…the valleys are deeper and the peaks larger. Here, the whole range is high…" Skirfir saw him gaze across the peaks to the east. It wasn't hard to see that he looked back toward Erebor. They'd last seen the Lonely Mountain on the far north-east horizon two days ago. It was long out of range, now.

Kili turned to him and smiled. "Are you sure you're all right with me dragging you this far from home?"

Skirfir grinned. "I was born in Erebor, yes. But my Da came from the Iron Hills. So…" Skirfir shrugged. "I figure home is where I make it."

Kili reached out and patted his back. Skirfir didn't need to tell him the truth…that his home was with his lord prince, now and forever. He would never willingly leave Kili. To this day he didn't quite know how he'd been so lucky to have his prince's regard, but it was more important to him than anything.

It was just the _ushmaru,_ he reminded himself. His commander had found him on the battlefield next to his dead father. That created a responsibility—a passing of the father role from the dead parent to the next warrior: to honor the sacrifice by acting as father and guide to the younger lad. In ten more years, Skirfir would come of age and Kili's formal obligation would be done.

"Your home is with us as long as you want it," Kili said firmly. "I'm pretty sure that lad Nÿr's bringing me will need both of us to ride herd on him until he's a hundred." His lord's eyes twinkled at this.

Skirfir felt buoyed by the acknowledgement of a long term future with his prince. "If he's anything like his cousins, he will be a joy."

Kili just laughed. "Don't count on it. My mother always said that Fili was a happy, well-behaved lad—and his sons pretty much followed that. I, on the other hand, was a little terror full of reckless mischief." Kili laughed, then smiled, then sobered and he brushed ice from his trimmed beard. They both knew that Kili's young recklessness had earned him a morgul wound and a curse. "Let's just hope this lad has a healthy dose of Nÿr's calmer wisdom in him," he said more seriously. "For all our sakes."

At the sound of someone approaching, Skirfir turned, ready to raise his bow.

"Just some help up from the valley," Elladan called to him.

Skirfir watched as a contingent of new elves came towards them from the other side of the guard house, two abreast, hands on hearts to Elladan as they approached. Skirfir could see them carrying a pair of stretchers and a few small packs of supplies.

"_Ai! Mae govannen_," Elladan greeted them.

Skirfir stood close to Kili as the elf lord spoke in clipped words to the newcomers. There were quick introductions as Tuilind and Yanu joined them.

Skirfir understood nothing of elvish, though his Lord Prince looked to be following the conversation well enough.

"They want to take Bofur and Embur ahead," Kili murmured to him. "Elladan says they will travel faster that way."

"Embur's a lass," Skirfir said in surprise.

The elves looked startled at his words.

"What he means," Kili said more hesitantly. "Is that we would not usually send a lass off without another lass along."

Skirfir heard in that Kili's unwillingness to be apart from his lady wife.

"I will go with Embur," Tuilind volunteered. She looked at Kili with shoulders squared. "Have I not accompanied the Lady Nÿr alone in the past?"

Kili reluctantly nodded. "But this will be different. Embur is injured and will need more help…"

"I understand," she murmured. "Embur will be quite naturally modest about…" she shrugged, showing that she could play nurse's assistant well enough.

Kili agreed, knowing that getting Bofur and his niece to the Rivendell healers meant they would be feeling better faster.

Together, he and Skirfir went inside to share the news and Nÿr quickly concurred. Bofur and Embur were readied for transport, and to no one's surprise, it was Bendin who most objected to handing his uncle and sister into the care of _elves_.

"Easy, lad," Skirfir heard Kili say, getting his arms around the distressed young miner. "We'll follow right behind, but we will all be both slower and noisier. They will get there sooner without us and you'll see them again by nightfall." He looked into Bendin's careworn eyes. "I promise."

Bendin swallowed, then nodded. Skirfir and Kili both helped him settle Bofur onto an elf stretcher, and Skirfir raised his eyebrows but said nothing as Kili slipped a pocket flask to the elder miner.

"For the journey," Kili said, quietly. Bendin looked grateful.

"Ah, laddie," Bofur mumbled. "Mahal bless you."

And then the Rivendell elves, Tuilind, and the two wounded dwarves were off, heading out at a swift and silent pace.

Kili and the rest of his dwarves, along with Yanu, Bruilan, Halden and the Sons of Elrond, busied themselves with packing up and following soon after. Kili instructed the ravens to meet them at the other end of the underground path, and he pointed them to the other side of the far ridge. Corax, at least, seemed to understand and the three ravens took to the sky together. Skirfir knew that Kili would wait until they were safe in Rivendell to send another update back to Erebor.

This time Kili and Nÿr walked side-by-side. Skirfir noted the addition of a small band and stone bead to the outer curve of his Lady's left ear and silently thanked Corax for the delivery. It was a protection ward, and he sincerely hoped it kept _crebain_ and other fell creatures away from his friend and princess.

It was a short hike down a snowy path to a pair of elven-carved stone doors, open to a tall, narrow tunnel of smoothly-hewn stone.

They paused to make sure everyone was together and Elrohir passed out walking sticks topped with small oil-burning lanterns.

"We will need these along the _Lominrâd,_" he said. "It will be quite dark when the guard close and seal the doors behind us."

Curiously, Skirfir realized that while Kili had accepted the lamp, he looked at the dark portal with misgiving.

"Is there a problem?" Yanu asked quietly as Elrohir moved off to distribute lamps to the others.

"No," Kili said. "I just…" he stared at the opening, one hand clutching Nÿr's.

Skirfir frowned, recognizing his prince's concern but not understanding it.

Kili's jaw clenched with tension. "The last time I was underground in the Misty Mountains, it was not by choice," he admitted. "Things didn't really go so well."

* * *

****A/N: THANK YOU for reading...**as always, let me know what you think in a quick review or PM...don't be shy! It's a huge help and keeps me working on the next chapter.

**Song reference** is Heather's Song by Rory Black—an capella song that seems (to me) to fit the ouevre of the Misty Mountains song as Thorin and co. sing it in the movie. My fave version for the voices of Nyr and Fria is the version by Misty River (listen on YouTube if you want—google "Heather's Song Misty River") YouTube also has the original (google "heather's song rory black") and another by Ashley Wells & Olivia DeJesus (google them plus song title.)

**Lyrics **as sung by Nÿr are credited to Rory Black, singer/songwriter. Apologies for a couple slight (dwarfy) word changes. Opals, since they're miners, not farmers; _Aüle_ since they're dwarves. ;P

**Elvish translations:**

_Lominrâd_ = secret path (a tunnel under the snowy pass above Rivendell, of elvish construction, recently cleared of goblins and now occupied/controlled by Rivendell elves.) Source (google) "Elvish Dictionary Parf Edhellen."

_Ai! Mae govannen_ = Hail! Well met… Source (google) "Arwen Undomiel Useful Phrases."

**Khuzdul translations:  
**

_Ushmar _= guardianship (refers to the dwarven tradition of older males informally adopting fatherless underage males and undertaking the role of parent-mentor…as Thorin did for Fili and Kili, and as Kili has done for Skirfir. _Ushmar_ is generally undertaken by a warrior who witnesses or discovers the actual parent's death in battle. Kili, as prince, might have passed this duty to someone else in the case of Skirfir...but he never thought twice about it. It helps that Skirfir is likable and loyal.) There's a bigger reference to this in Warhammers, Chapter 3, scene 5 (Skirfir guarding fevered Kili after the spider attack.)

**It is Thanksgiving week here in the US**, and I am thankful for my ever-amazing Beta reading team: **BlueRiverSteel **who is an all-around super online pal,** Cassandrala **who is eagle-eyed and so multi-talented, and **Jessie152, **whose thoughtful insights help immensely. They are all three ready and willing to read parts of the sketched chapters and make great suggestions that add clarity to the action. In the tech world we call this _user experience testing_, lol. For you, this means they help make the chapters more readable/understandable and I genuinely appreciate their friendship and help.

**I am also thankful for all of you!** I'm fairly flabbergasted that you guys like reading along. I bow to you, hand on heart.

**Finally a shout out to** **DrummerGirl** as requested in this note from an Anon: "_Can you give my friend __**DrummerGirl **__(The name she wants if she ever get an account) a shout out? She's even more obsessed with the hobbit than I am, which is rather impressive ;) She also wants to replace LOTR with your stories so Kili never…" _

**DrummerGirl**—what are you waiting for? Sign up already! And I totally hear you on the "Kili Never..." part. I think we can all pinky lock on that!******


	14. Chapter 14

_****A/N**: If you're up for it, the music prompt for the opening scene: _Full of Fire_ by Jess Chambers. Listen free on youtube or bandcamp.******_

* * *

**Chapter 14**

Fili, King of the Lonely Mountain, had taken himself to Erebor's Western Terrace at the end of the day and called ravens himself. It had been four days since they'd had a message from his brother, and as the sun set and the last ravens departed for their roosts, Fili was no wiser about his brother's whereabouts or safety.

He sighed, excused his guard, and ambled distractedly through the halls of Erebor, ending up alone in his study. He pulled out a sheaf of reports, tried to read them, but really only stared at the words. He was worried, he finally admitted, berating himself for thinking that letting Kili leave Erebor was such a good idea. He fought the urge to arm up and go after him.

It's times like this when an Eagle would come in handy, he grumbled, wishing he could call one to his hand like a raven.

But of course he couldn't.

Heavy hearted, he put his elbows on his desk, then his head in his hands.

He had no idea how long he sat there feeling sorry for himself when he felt her hands on his shoulders.

"An…" He reached up to rest his hand on top of hers. Of course she knew where to find him when he was low.

She said nothing, but her beautiful eyes told him she knew what bothered him. Her hands were gentle and soothing as she sat on his knee and framed his face, bending to kiss his ear.

"My love…?" she whispered.

"No ravens. Not since the new moon." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "What have I done…" he murmured. He closed his eyes, making a fist and resting his forehead against it. "I'm the world's absolute worst brother."

She shook her head and stroked his jaw. "I don't believe that. I've seen you," she smiled sadly, "full of fire, blazing a trail across everything for him…for all of us. You are not one to gamble with lives, Fili."

He looked down at her hand, hearing her words but feeling like he was mired hip-deep in a swamp. He put an arm around her—she had, over the years, become the voice of practical reason when it came to many things...including his _nadadith_.

"The truth," she said quietly, straightening his braids. "Is that he is two weeks away. You know it can be days between ravens when there's that kind of distance. They could be delayed by a storm…nothing more."

Slowly, Fili nodded and rested his forehead against hers. "How do you always know when to throw me a lifeline?" he asked, pushing her hair behind her ear. She was wearing hoops strung with emeralds, their color glowing in the lamplight. He raised an eyebrow. "And why am I always so taken with your ears?"

She drew him close and tucked his head against her cheek. "Because you're _you_," she smiled.

His lips found the place below her ear. She smelled like evening sage out on the northern slope. _Mahal…_ He savored the moment, appreciating her love and her presence. He was truly blessed, he recalled for easily the ten thousandth time, to have discovered this amazing lass singing in his halls all those years ago.

"You want to see me full of fire," he murmured between sloppy kisses, making his way to her mouth. "Then show me the trail to our bed…"

* * *

Under that same sunset, Kili and Nÿr rode ponies in the pouring rain. They'd made it down the _Lominrâd_ with no incident save for passing elven carvings grotesquely defaced by evil vermin. About halfway through they had crossed a wide chamber that might once have been a pleasant place to stop and rest. The sound of dripping water showed the broken remains of basins for catching underground springwater. The filth had been cleared away, but what had once been a bas relief scene depicting a temple in Gondolin had been re-worked into horrible creatures conducting a brutal fight ring.

Nÿr had gasped at the sight of cruel imagery.

Kili had simply pulled his hood up, limiting his vision to the floor in front of him until they had passed once again into a narrow tunnel.

He'd remained quiet afterward, his guts unsettled. He could almost hear the raucous shouts of goblins echoing off the stone…_fight, fight, fight…! _ It was just as well that no one could see his angry glower in the dark of the underground passage.

Two more hours of steady walking and it was over—they emerged out of the western gate into a thick forest with sunlight slanting through the trees.

"Welcome to the western side of the Misty Mountains," Elrohir had said, smiling.

Kili had pushed his hood back, breathing in the fresh air.

"_Ghelekhur aimâ!" _ Kili said in relief. "Our thanks, my Lord." He smiled gently at Elrohir as the tall elf passed and touched his shoulder.

Kili's raven friends and a fresh contingent of Rivendell elves with a string of sturdy ponies awaited them just past the western gate. The dwarves mounted up and followed the elves and men, who preferred to walk the steep trail down. As they continued toward Rivendell, dark storm clouds came and went, bringing light snow flurries now and again, but Kili was heartened to ride beside Nÿr as the trail led through a healthy forest of fragrant cedar. Corax, Orkk, and the young hen Alq flew escort and Kili's heart lifted at the sight of them swooping past and circling back in joy.

But as they descended into the foothills, the light snow flurries turned to heavy rain, soaking everyone with a chill damp.

"_Na vedui!_" Elladan called back to them, a good hour after dark.

"What's he saying?" Bendin asked. Skirfir rode beside the worried lad, just behind Kili and Nÿr.

"_We are here_," Kili translated. "This is the last hill down to Rivendell." He peered out from under his hood into the dark rain and shook his head. "But have a care, lads." He pointed to the dropoff on their left. "This trail follows high above a swift moving river…and it's a long way down to whitewater." He looked over his shoulder to see Bendin nudge his pony a little closer to Skirf's and smiled.

The trail beneath the pony's hooves changed then from mud to cobblestones and then to clean granite slabs. Torchlight illuminated a pathway that crossed a sloping bridge and wound into an enclave of houses and halls, and Elladan halted the ponies in the middle of a broad courtyard of flagstones.

Several elven grooms, cloaked against the rain, came forward. "_Le suilon!"_ they called to Elladan and Elrohir.

"They will tend your ponies and bring your bags," Elladan shouted to Kili through the downpour. "Get your people inside!" He pointed Yanu up an L-shaped stairway to a brightly lit door under a steeply pitched porch roof.

"Our wounded," Kili asked. "Can you take us to them?"

A blue-caped elf shook his head. "They are well—and long asleep."

Kili looked ready to argue.

"Just a quick visit to assure them," Elrohir intervened. "Take them up please, _mellon_."

The blue-caped elf agreed. Nÿr was off her pony and following with more energy than Kili felt, and he gestured to Bendin to come along. Skirfir was of course, right behind. He trusted that the Bruns brothers would be cared for—besides, they had passed through Rivendell before and knew their way around.

Yanu led them up the stairs, eyes wide at the splendor of Rivendell, even in the dark.

Inside a pair of wide doors, they found a foyer. Tuilind, looking warm and dry, came quickly to them, clasping hands with Nÿr.

"They are both much better," she assured her friend, then turned to embrace Yanu, her beloved. Kili helped Nÿr slip off her soaked cloak as she took Bendin by the arm and went inside. Kili and Skirfir shed their outer gear and followed more slowly.

Inside, they found Embur's bedside next to Bofur's. Both were asleep, but except for light bandaging looked perfectly fine. Embur's face was less swollen, and other than scratches and an eye patch, she looked like her regular self.

Bendin went to his sister's bedside, grasping her hand and shamelessly waking her.

"Mahal's bucket, Ben," she murmured, a sleepy half smile on her face as she scrunched her nose and reached out to touch his sopping hair. "Go take a bath!"

Kili suppressed a grin and checked on Bofur. Predictably, the old miner was snoring, mouth open, with the little flask Kili had loaned him clutched tight in one hand.

He turned to see Nÿr nodding her head to quiet words from a healer elf and noted that she swayed on her feet. When the elf-healer bowed to her, hand on heart, and withdrew, she turned and took a step sideways, having stumbled over her own boots. One look at her tired face told him she was the one in most need of care and warmth.

"Skirfir, can you look after Bendin tonight?" he asked pointedly.

Blinking, Skirf nodded. "Of course."

Kili didn't waste time. "See that you both get baths, food, and sleep," he nodded to Skirf but didn't wait for an answer.

Instead he turned to Nÿr. "Your patients are in better shape than you are," he said, scooping her into his arms and carrying her out. He took it as a sign that he was right when she didn't object…grateful that others pointed the way across the foyer, down stairs, and through a series of passages. A door was held open for them, and he carried her inside a warmly lit chamber with a stone floor, high bed, roaring fire, and steaming bath. Their elf guide withdrew, closing the door to the rain and wind outside.

"Oh Blessed Mahal!" Nÿr squirmed from his arms, clearly intent on the bath.

Kili helped her out of her wet gear and into the warm water, then left his own clothing in a sopping pile and joined her.

"Clean again," Nÿr murmured, leaning against him after a good scrub. "I was beginning to think I'd never get this clean and warm."

"And sleepy," Kili teased. They nibbled on tidbits of apples, elven bread, and cheese (because of course, elves thought eating while bathing was perfectly natural) and before long she was indeed drifting off to sleep. Kili managed to stay awake long enough to encourage her out of the bath, and together they dried off with plush towels.

They found the bed, then, neither one caring that they had no nightclothes. Neither were they interested in anything more than sleep. They climbed in, burrowed under downy covers and snuggled together in complete exhaustion.

"Say goodnight," Nÿr mumbled, sleepily holding Kili's hand over her lower stomach and the growing little dwarfling within.

Kili slowly kissed her forehead. "G'night to both of you," he whispered. They closed their eyes, their exhaustion mixing with their great relief and sending them into deep, untroubled sleep.

The next morning, Kili awoke alone. Dappled sunlight shone through leaded glass windows, but the place was far more quiet than any dwarf abode.

"Nÿr?" he called, sitting up and looking around. Across the room sat a tray of half-eaten breakfast and a teacup obviously used and abandoned. _Off to check on her patients_, he decided, yawning.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet dangling a good two feet from the floor. He frowned and looked about, wondering if his lady wife had left their room without a stitch of clothing…

Then he spotted the rack with dry clothes from their own packs, freshly laundered and laid out. He dressed, finished the food Nÿr had left, and took himself outside to get his bearings.

Fresh air, the scent of wood fires, and the sound of the valley's waterfalls greeted him. A pair of red birds chased each other across the scene, and in the trees high above, Kili heard the good morning quork of a raven. He looked up to see Corax launch himself after the red birds, smiling at the sound of bird calls echoing around him.

_Rivendell…_ He never thought he'd see this place again, and yet here he was.

The porch of the little guest house opened to a wide courtyard with a long, curved railing overlooking a fern canyon and waterfall. The sun was out and a slight, cool breeze blew up from the lower valley.

He slowly followed a meandering path past artfully trimmed trees and bushes full of winter berries. He remembered this valley because of course he'd been here once before, yet it was just a little bit different: he could feel it in the air, sense it from the stone under his feet. The season had changed from autumn to winter, and Elrond Half-Elven, so long the Lord of Imladris, had departed Middle Earth.

His sons resided here now. The brothers.

Kili turned his face into the gentle breeze, thinking of his own brother. He could almost step back in time, step back to that day when he and Fili had both come to this place…such innocents in those days. Two green lads who'd never faced anything more frightening than a couple of trolls stealing Shire ponies for their dinner.

He also remembered Fili fussing at him to clean up and do his laundry…when that was the last thing a young lad in a new place wanted to do. He'd also been highly distracted by the elven maids. He smiled and snorted at himself.

They were sweet memories, but it also felt like a stab in the heart to recall himself and Fili from that time, knowing how much had happened since. His fascination with elf maids had led him to flirt shamelessly with a captain of the Mirkwood Guard…and that story had not gone the way his younger self might have imagined.

Kili shook off that line of thinking and looked west. He spotted the sacred fountain they'd once bathed in and winced. He did regret their lack of manners from that first visit. He would make no apologies, mind. But he wouldn't be throwing food or letting Bofur make campfires out of the furniture this time around. He smiled at the memory of Bombur feasting on sausages, then looked up the hill to a terrace higher above. _Thorin…_

The last time he'd been here, they had been with Thorin.

His eyes found the sweeping stairs down from the terrace and he could almost imagine that his uncle would come stomping down, grumbling about elves and demanding they pack up and go.

And then he heard voices—real voices, actually. He turned to see Elladan come around a large berry shrub, talking politely with a strange dwarf.

_No, not a dwarf,_ he realized, as the slimmer fellow, nearly as tall as Kili, looked back at him with a small, curious half-smile.

Kili couldn't help himself. He stared.

The hobbit stared back in mild confusion.

_"Bilbo?"_ Kili finally breathed, looking at the face that both _was_ and _was not_ the dear hobbit he'd once known.

* * *

"_Ghelekhur aimâ!" = _may good be upon us (source: the Dwarrow Scholar website)

_"Le suilon!"_ = a formal welcome (Arwen Undomiel website)

**Please be sure to drop me a note as a review or a PM.**..! Who could Kili be seeing?

Hint: I have a Pinterest board with some great fan art that I've found inspiring...just google Summer Alden Pinterest to see it. I also found a great piece of conceptual art that to me is a ringer for Embur, complete with a bit of Bombur-like thick red braid near her jaw. Take a look! It's the Durin's Day board. (And don't worry, Summer Alden is an alias...not my real name.)

And thanks once again to the creative consultant team...who didn't beta read this time around (busy holidays) but provided much appreciated moral suppport! Mwah to **BlueRiverSteel, Cassandrala,** and **Jessie152**!

Hope you enjoyed! -Summer


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Kili stared at the hobbit, jarred by something like a real-life flashback. "Bilbo?" he asked again, squinting.

"Pippin," the hobbit answered in a pert voice, eyebrows raised. "Peregrine Took, I should say. Though I'll forgive you the error. Bilbo was, of course, a Took you know, on his mother's side. My great-grandfather's daughter's son, to be precise," the hobbit's face ranged from happy to puzzled as he talked.

_Not Bilbo… One of the Fellowship. _Kili's stomach went hollow in embarrassment. He found his manners and put his hand on his heart. "Kili," he said, bowing. "At your service."

He straightened to see Mister Took taking a turn at standing and staring, mouth agape.

Elladan cleared his throat and Pippin looked up at him.

"My good hobbit," Elladan said politely. "He is indeed Kili, of the line of Durin and Prince of Erebor."

The hobbit sobered, stared, and then set his chin and made a proper bow, hand on heart.

"Peregrin, Son of Paladin, at yours and your family's." Pippin stood and then breathed a smile. "And well met, my lord Prince."

Kili shook his head slightly. "No kin of Bilbo's has need to call me Prince," he murmured, still in shock at how this young hero was so like and yet _unlike_ Bilbo. "And forgive me for staring," he said, feeling his face heat. "It's just that you look much like your cousin as I knew him. Years ago, it was…" Kili heard his voice trailing off.

He'd never seen Bilbo again, despite the promises. Letters, of course. There had been letters.

Elladan held out a hand to suggest Kili sit on a nearby stone bench.

Kili did, sinking slowly to the seat, his wide eyes and still focused on the hobbit.

"Bilbo left us a year ago September," Pippin said, his young face suddenly serious. "Gandalf, too."

"And my father," Elladan said, standing very still with his head bowed.

Kili nodded slowly. "We heard," he said, then made a half shrug. "My brother and I, that is." The winter garden around them suddenly seemed a little blurry and Kili sighed. Gandalf and Bilbo both, and Elrond.

Mahal, it seemed like a lifetime ago that he'd been here, in this place, with all three.

Pippin was smiling again, changing subjects quickly. "So, I answered a call for Shire ponies," he said. "_Ponies for a group of dwarves traveling west and their baggage_." He nodded. "I hear some have already been of good service."

"And very much appreciated, Master Hobbit," Kili nodded, accepting the Bilbo-like change of subject and forcing a smile. "My thanks."

"I'm just surprised to learn that it's you," Pippin went on, shaking his head and laughing a bit. "Do you know Frodo often talked of visiting the Lonely Mountain? We've heard the stories about you and your brother, of course. Never get tired of them," Pippin said proudly, hands grasping his lapels as if he were an expert.

Kili couldn't help smiling. "I'm glad Bilbo remembered Thorin so well."

Pippin tilted his head. "Well, most of the stories were about _you_. And your brother."

Kili raised an eyebrow.

"Apparently, you teased him incessantly and hid his tobacco pouch whenever you could get close to it."

Kili laughed out loud. "Mahal, I'd forgotten about his tobacco pouch. I seem to recall we smoked a fair bit of it as well." He shook his head at the memory. "We were certainly uncivilized youngsters. Let me assure you that none of my companions will treat you so." He sobered. "One advantage to having been such a mischievous lad is I recognize the type."

Corax chose that moment to horn in on the conversation, alighting in a tree, quorking loudly, and then hopping to a lower branch.

Kili stood, holding out an arm to the jealous bird to him in hopes he would quiet.

Corax leapt to Kili's hand and stood tall, as if _he_ were the prince.

Elladan laughed this time. "He's quite a proud bird," he said.

"He's young. And it's about time I sent him back to Fili with a message," he said.

"Make it brief," Elladan advised. "We can send a swift-footed messenger off today with written missives." He glanced at the sky. "If the weather to the east is clear, a letter would reach your brother in four days."

Kili's heart lifted. "That, my Lord, would be greatly appreciated."

Elladan excused himself then, though Pippin stayed, admiring Corax and looking him over with great interest.

"Bilbo told us the story many times about how the Ravens picked your brother to be King."

Kili smiled as he carried Corax to an overlook with fewer trees. "They did," he said. "The very day that Thorin passed. They Named him _King _and seemed to think that was all it took." He held Corax where Pippin could get a good look. "Gandalf approved and Dain Ironfoot just gave in. Told Fili the place was a mess and he was welcome to it. Took his share of the gold and that was it. Gone."

And Erebor _had_ been a mess. Eighty-two years later, Fili was still renovating and rebuilding.

Kili watched Pippin admiring the big raven. "You know, Bilbo could understand Roäc, though I'm not sure he ever Spoke to the old bird." Kili lifted the raven to eye level. "Say hello to our hobbit friend," Kili said.

Pippin looked on in surprise as Corax eyed him, then ruffled. "Not-dwarf," he said. "Not-dwarf."

"No, sir," Pippin agreed. "I'm a hobbit."

"Very good," Kili smiled at Pippin. "You heard him!" Corax minced his feet on Kili's gauntlet, showing impatience.

"This," Kili introduced him. "Is Corax. I fed him right out of the nest, so he gets a bit jealous. Thinks he owns me, but don't let him get away with that." Kili watched Pippin's smile widen. "Hold up your arm," he suggested.

Pippin did.

Corax wasted no time in hopping over, his beak immediately going to the brass buttons on Pippin's coat, nibbling as if testing the taste and shape.

"Well met, friend Corax," Pippin put his hand on his heart and nodded his head. "I am happy to meet such a commendable bird." Pippin looked to Kili for approval, as if asking if he'd followed the correct protocol.

Kili smiled and nodded.

"You're a truly clever fellow," Pippin went on. "Would you take a message to your Lord Prince if I gave you one?" Pippin asked.

Corax seemed to consider, but looked from Pippin to Kili as if wondering why he needed to take a message to someone standing right there.

"Would you tell him," Pippin stated clearly. "That I would be honored to ride with his company when they depart? As escort and guide, if you will."

Corax let loose with a very loud squawk, clearly startling Pippin, who leaned away and then laughed. Corax clucked, then launched himself, wings flapping strongly as he rose into the air and flew over the river gorge.

"Did I do it wrong?" Pippin asked.

"I don't think so," Kili said, watching Corax. "He's just a little confused about me being right here, but I think he's playing along." He grinned at Pippin. "Passing a message requires a taking a flight, you know." He winked, and the hobbit next to him laughed in delight.

_Not like Bilbo at all,_ Kili realized. Yet he quite liked the lad. "Here he comes," Kili said, holding up his arm for the big raven.

Corax dove, made a showy wheel-and-turn aerial, then landed lightly on Kili's arm. "Not-dwarf." He muttered. "Silly."

* * *

Fili stood on Ravenhill at sunrise, his son Gunz beside him on page duty.

He suspected his lady wife of using his children as a distraction this morning, but he didn't really mind. Iri and Hannar had surrounded him in their quarters, their merry chatter getting him to smile and laugh all through breakfast.

And now Gunz was with him, rather coincidentally assigned as his page for the morning. All he needed now was…

_Yes,_ Fili smiled. He spotted Fjalar striding up the path to him.

_An. Queen Meddler. _He realized he loved her for it.

"Morning, Da!" Fjalar greeted him with a smile.

"Your mother put you up to this," Fili stated.

Fjalar only shrugged. "Maybe," he grinned. "Didn't take much." He breathed in the sharp morning air.

Such a peaceful moment.

But Fili suddenly looked away. It had been a winter day not unlike this one eighty-odd years ago when everything might have turned out so very differently.

"Do you know I almost died up here the day Thorin died?" he said.

Both lads turned to him, eyes wide. "No…" Fjalar said.

"Kili, too." Fili caught sight of a raven coming in and held up his arm. "It was the ravens who made the difference," he said.

Fjalar was silent. Gunz looked up at the large black bird and tilted his head. "One of them defended you?"

"One?" Fili snorted. "One of them alone stood no chance." He was silent, waiting for the raven to settle. "It was the first time I ever saw a war flock. We hadn't really seen Erebor ravens yet—so imagine my surprise."

He listened to the raven then, heard its report about snowfall in the upper elevation, thanked it, and sent it on its way.

"We were attacked. They would have had me." He shook his head, looking somber. "But then there were ravens _everywhere_," he looked up at two more who were circling. "They came in like a fast and furious whirlwind . I only just managed to get away because of them. Kili…would have met the same end." He looked at his sons, realizing he was talking about life and death moments they could not possibly imagine.

_Mahal help me, I hope they never have to._

He shook his head to bring himself back to the here and now. "So you both have the ravens to thank for me surviving long enough to meet your mother twenty years later—and then have _you_," he smiled.

"Doesn't it bother you to be here?" Fjalar asked, having heard many times the history of that day and the battle that left Thorin Oakenshield dying.

"No," Fili said firmly. "We earned Ravenhill with the blood of our kin. It's ours."

Fjalar looked up at the mountain as if trying to assemble the details in his head.

"It's like the western outpost," Fili said. "You saw it last summer. Easterlings burned it to the ground."

"But you re-built it."

"Mahal's hot _ass_, I re-built it." Fili swore, a fiery glint in his eyes. "We win it, we hold it. Make it ours and it loses any power that the enemy gained in taking it. Ravenhill's the same way. We hold it. We honor our dead, but we will never let the enemy own the place where they fell. _We_ own it. We get to shape its future."

Gunz, unable to help himself, broke with page protocol and rushed forward to throw his arms around Fili's waist.

"I'm glad you didn't die here," he mumbled.

Fili rubbed Gunz's back. "Me too, lad."

"Can I feed the ravens extra nuts today?" his son looked up at him, his eyes so innocent.

"Any time you want, Gunz." Then Fili looked at his older son, recognizing that Fjalar's puzzled frown meant that while he was less able to break protocol, he was just as in need of a hug. He reached out and drew his oldest son and heir close, touching foreheads.

"Thanks, lads," he said. "For cheering up your old Da. _Mahal_, I love you both."

"You're our best Da," Fjalar said, using an old joke. (He was their _only_ Da.) And then Fili noticed Fjalar suppressing a smile that reminded him not so much of himself as of Kili.

He held his sons close, so very grateful to be there with them. He closed his eyes, not caring who saw them until a demanding quork from overhead broke their moment.

Fjalar stepped back, having plainly understood the Raven's complaint.

"Guess I better get back to work," Fili observed.

* * *

Kili sent Corax off to Erebor with a message to his _nadad_ that they had made it to Rivendell, that they were well, and that a more detailed report was being sent with a messenger.

"What about that one?" Pippin asked, pointing to a crouching raven in the underbrush.

Kili bent to get a look, finding a straggled raven he didn't know. It could just be a local native bird, not a speaking raven at all. But he motioned apologetically for Pippin to stay put and stay quiet, and the hobbit nodded, fascinated.

Kili stood and edged closer to the shy bird.

"Rayyyy…raaaay… ," it croaked, ducking, then backing up, head down in a submissive chick pose.

"I am Raven Prince," Kili said, approaching carefully. "Come and speak, my friend." It took a few minutes of coaxing, but the strange raven finally emerged from the underbrush and landed tentatively on Kili's arm, practically on his wrist.

"Do you have a message?" He asked in _Khuzdul_, guessing how this bird would speak. That was how the other strange raven had spoken, the one he suspected had been sent to him by Nori.

The strange raven eyed him with greater interest then.

"They are trapped. Trapped in the canyon. Goblin filth."

"Can't have that," Kili murmured, hoping to draw out more information. "Thank you for the message. Is there more?"

"Three hundred."

Kili's eyebrows shot up. "Three hundred?" he said in _Khuzdul_, then repeated it in Westron. "Three hundred goblins?" Pippin clearly heard this and he looked at Kili, his expression stern.

The raven bobbed in affirmation. "No food. They starve. Five die."

Five dead dwarves? The news made him bristle. Starved? The rumors of blockades… A sudden urge for goblin blood flared in his willing heart.

_Careful, Kee,_ he heard an echo of his brother's voice in his head. _This might not be what it seems._ Was it an ambush? A trap…?

"We can help them, my friend. I promise," he said to the bird, angling for more detail. "But where? Tell me where they are."

"_Tumunzahar_…"

Kili fought from sighing in frustration; he couldn't scare off this raven by showing it. Instead, he pitched his voice lower. "Yes, I've heard that name. But where is that place? Tell me how to get there. Tell me what to look for." He offered a nut.

The raven eyed it. "Haven. Ships and haven."

Kili stared. He translated for Pippin as the raven took the nut.

The hobbit's face went from stern to troubled. "Ships and haven. I know where that is."

Kili stared.

"The Grey Havens. It's two days' ride outside of Hobbiton." He narrowed his eyes. "Is he saying the Shire's in danger?"

Kili looked up to gauge the height of the sun. It was still early.

"I am not sure," he said. "He speaks of a place called_ Tumunzahar_. It is an ancient dwarf mine in the mountains…long lost and forgotten. I never thought it as anything more than an old legend."

Pippin looked instantly curious. "What kind of mine?"

"Mithril."

Pippin's blank shock told Kili that the hobbit was well aware of the great wealth a mithril mine could hold.

Wealth…and trouble._  
_  
"I think," Kili said, giving the raven another nut. "That I would dearly love a good look at Master Elrond's map collection." He looked at the hobbit and saw the kind of grim understanding one earns with experience on the battlefield. "Would you care to join me, Mister Took?" Kili asked.

The hobbit didn't flinch. "I would indeed, Master Dwarf."

* * *

_****A/N:** THANKS for reading_…the BOFA premiere chatter is certainly a distraction! **Please do post a review or send me a PM to let me know you're reading…it's especially useful when the fandom is so active otherwise.**

I grew up with a San Francisco radio station whose tag line was **"if you don't like the news, go out and make some of your own."** So I intend to just keep owning my headcanon that the lads survive. I love the movies, but they are one fan's (PJs) headcanon. You and I have a right to ones of our own as well. The difference between us and him is he owns the movie rights and can profit from it. We just happily play in the sandbox for free.

I'm also totally OK with chatting about spoilers, but if you want to share, please send them to me in a Private Message to protect others from seeing spoilery things in the reviews. Thanks ahead of time. I don't always reply to reviews, but I will reply to a PM if I can.

**Rest assured** that the lads are alive and well here in the Durin's Day AU! I will willingly pinky-lock with all of you and promise Fili and Kili will have far, far better long and fruitful lives with me. ;P And since a few of you are worried, I have no intention of stopping the story, no matter what happens in the movies.

Thanks again to **BlueRiverSteel, Cassandrala**, and **Jessie152.** They read drafted scenes and provide moral support. THANKS bunches, lassies! They are fab...go visit Blue and Cass's stories too!

**Jessie152** has a new blog on Tumblr: durincrafts. Check it out! Follow! Quite tasteful, imho.

And a shout-out to Australia! My traffic stats show that readership in Australia has surpassed the US in the last few days. Not sure if that's because of our holiday here...or if Australia's just rocking the AU. Somebody say Hi and splain it to me.

Mahal's blessings. My hand on heart to you for helping to keep the lads alive and kicking. ;-)

Next post in about a week!

((Hugs)) Summer


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